Smallville Lana Finds Out
by IolantheAlias
Summary: AU version of how Lana might find out Clark's secret and how she adjusts to that knowledge. Clark's an alien and it's frightening at first. She is in a situation where she can't get away from him but he is her only hope. Her attitude changes.
1. Together In The Wilderness

Lana looked out the window and marveled at the view. Blue sky, with white clouds scattered throughout, reigned over the green-blue-purple of the Rocky Mountains. Snow-capped peaks towered above the infinite shades of green of trees too numerous to count. Reluctantly, she turned away from the window and closed her suitcase. Time to go.

She had been in Lex's (_and now mine, I suppose_) lodge in the Canadian Rockies for the past two weeks. Down in Smallville, the weather continued hot and humid – over 100 degrees F and 97 percent humidity for the past twenty days. Here at the lodge, the temperature and humidity matched; a comfortable seventy each.

_I couldn't stand it in Kansas another minute_, Lana thought. She looked down at her belly and smiled ruefully. _Over eight months pregnant_ _in that weather. _Cranky with no sleep, the baby kicking her every few minutes, having to go to the bathroom all the time, at the mercy of the pregnancy hormones, she had lapsed into a hysterical crying fit, clutching at Lex, sobbing and choking. He had looked alarmed, and, after a few questions, had said, "I know where."

With the usual Luthorcorp efficiency, administrative assistants practiced in gratifying Lex's every whim had arranged the chopper from Smallville to Metropolis, the corporate jet from Metropolis to a large metropolitan Canadian airport, and from there a combination of propeller planes and Range Rovers to the "rustic" Luthor lodge. Lana thought that "rustic" described the log exterior, not the five thousand square foot interior containing every possible convenience and luxury. The caretakers, a kindly middle-aged couple, had pampered Lana night and day. The cool mountain air was heavenly, and the first night she had actually gotten a full four hours of uninterrupted sleep before having to get up to pee again.

Lex had spent a full five days with her. They'd walked the mountain meadows (actually, more like a light ambling), had a picnic lunch on two of the days, and relaxed a little bit. Of course, he still worked on business in the early mornings and late evenings when she was in bed or resting, but it had been wonderful to spend the time with him.

The caretakers had arranged meals – plain food, but cooked excellently, with fresh ingredients. She had urged Lex to take some wine along on their picnics, but showing sensitivity to her pregnancy-enforced alcohol abstention, he had refrained from drinking all the time he was with her. Lana was secretly pleased; she felt that Lex could stand to cut down on his drinking.

Now it was time to leave; leave the idyll. She had to go back to Smallville for her obstetrician appointment; from now on it was weekly checks. She idly wondered if Lex would arrange OB house calls here; then she smiled – she knew that Lex would if she wanted it. Lana picked up her bag, and took her suitcase in the other hand. She went out into the hall.

"Mrs. Luthor!" Craig, the husband part of the caretaking team exclaimed. "You're not supposed to be carrying your luggage!" He looked disapproving. "In your condition…." He tailed off. "Mr. Luthor gave us strict orders."

"I'm sorry, Craig", Lana apologized. She still wasn't used to having servants, and especially not used to someone doing for her what she could do perfectly well herself. She realized what a position she'd put Craig in, though. "Can you take my suitcase out to the car?"

"Of course." Craig promptly picked up her suitcase and took it outside.

"Mrs. Luthor." Lana turned to face Priscilla, the other half of the caretaking team. "I hope you've had a good time here."

"It's been wonderful", Lana said. "You cook so well. The lunches were wonderful…actually, all the meals were wonderful. You've made the lodge so much like home…I've really had a good time here."

Priscilla smiled. "You take care of yourself, honey", she said. "I remember the last month when I was carrying my babies. It seemed to last forever!"

"It seems that way", Lana agreed ruefully.

"Now, we've got everything arranged", Priscilla said in a bustling tone, changing the subject. "Craig will drive you to the airstrip. Then Mr. Smith will pilot you to the big airport and the jet will be there for you. You should be home by evening."

"Thanks so much, Mrs. Anderson", Lana said, reaching over and hugging Priscilla. "You two take care, too." They smiled at each other, then Lana went out to the driveway.

Craig offered little conversation on the hour-long ride to the air field; that was just as well with Lana. She spent her time looking out the window, marveling at the view. By the time they reached the airfield, she had to go to the bathroom again, and walked quickly to the facilities. Once done, she got some water from the sink and used it to wash down two Dramamine tablets.

She came out and stared at the small two-seater propeller plane parked near the grass runway. Painted a jaunty white and blue, it looked smaller than she remembered. But then, on the other hand, when she'd come, she'd been dazed with lack of sleep and sticky with sweat. She really didn't remember a lot about the trip here.

Lana walked around the plane and almost ran into a heavy-set man inhaling on his cigarette, talking with Craig. His short-sleeved shirt, open at the neckline, revealed a set of dog tags dangling on a chain around his neck.

"Mrs. Luthor", he said.

"Hello", Lana replied.

"We're just about ready to go if you are", the man said. "Craig has given me your bag; I've filed the flight plan. Are you set?"

"Um, I guess so", Lana said, a little flustered at the quickness. _On the other hand, we are the only ones here. This is a pretty small airstrip, so I guess he wouldn't be here if it weren't for me. _

"Hop in then", the man said. "I'm John Smith and I'll be flying you to the big airport." He smiled at her; Lana thought that although he was much more heavyset, and dark-haired, he reminded her a bit of Jonathan Kent. Something about the way he stood and moved, maybe.

Smith helped her into the right-hand seat, then fussed with the seat belts and buckles, trying to make them fit her pregnancy-swollen body as comfortably as possible. He put her suitcase behind their seats; there was little cabin space in the small airplane, and she was grateful she had packed light. Lana put her small purse between her feet on the floor. Smith closed the door, then shook hands with Craig and headed around the plane to the pilot's seat.

"This might be a little bumpy", Smith said. "I don't know if you're used to flying in small planes?" He turned away from her a little bit to rub at his left arm.

"No. I did take two Dramamine."

"Probably a good idea, Mrs. Luthor. It can get a little choppy up there. We'll be a few hours in the air." He stopped his conversation and turned his attention to a laminated checklist, methodically performing or checking each item on the list. Lana remained quiet, not wanting to distract him.

"All OK?" he asked her one last time. She nodded.

"We're going up." And they did. Lana looked out the windows, marveling again at the wonderful view, so similar and yet so different as the one from her lodge window. Things looked totally different when you were up in the air. Smith seemed engrossed in his knobs and dials.

They hit a little air pocket, and suddenly to Lana, it was as if she were in an elevator that was dropping very quickly. Her stomach lurched. To distract it, she looked around the small cabin. Between their seats was a small toolbox. Smith caught her glancing at it.

"Tackle box", he said loudly, over the engine noise. "After I drop you off, I'm going to meet some friends up at a lake for a week of fishing."

"I hope I'm not delaying your vacation", Lana said politely.

"No problem, Mrs. Luthor, rest assured that I'm getting well paid to miss a day of it", Smith replied jocularly. He took his right hand off the control yoke to rub at his left arm again, a momentary grimace on his features.

"Do you fly a lot?" Lana asked.

"Do I fly! It's what I love to do!" She seemed to have hit the mother lode of reminiscence. "One time I was taking this group on a fishing trip, and they caught so many fish…" he launched into a long story, apparently not bothered by her lack of responses. As he continued his long tale, Lana felt her eyes closing.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Smith", she said. "I find myself so tired all the time right now."

"Don't you worry, Mrs. Luthor", he said. "Just close your eyes and lay back a little bit." He looked at the indicator dials and lights again. "Going to Smallville, eh? I remember one time I went fishing in Smallville – that Crater Lake there? I got some good fish there…" he went on.

Lana shifted uncomfortably in her seat as the baby kicked her. The pilot broke off his fish stories and glanced at her distended, pregnant abdomen. He looked away and started a new topic. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Luthor, it's a pretty long trip. I'll try and get you there as fast as I can. You probably want to get up and move around a little bit." Lana nodded, her eyes still closed.

Smith continued. "I remember one time when my wife was expecting…" he went into another long story. The steady droning of the engine and the Dramamine lulled Lana. She slipped into sleep.

She woke up, annoyed. There was a change in the engine sound and Mr. Smith had his arm on her thigh. In her twilight state between sleep and wakefulness, she was annoyed. _Move it!_ She mentally told him. He didn't. She swam through the lethargy, slowly becoming more alert. "Move it!" This time the words were audible.

He didn't move his arm. It was getting heavy, resting there on her leg. With an effort of will, she opened her eyes. She still felt tired. Then she became aware of a bad smell in the cabin. She looked over at Mr. Smith, prepared to remove his hand from her thigh and give him an icy look. Her eyes widened and she gasped as she got a good look at Smith.

He was dead. She'd seen dead people before and knew what they were like – the lack of motion, the stillness. His head lolled on his chest, his eyes open but sightless. She looked down; apparently he had voided as he died and that was the source of the bad smell. She picked up his arm and moved it off her thigh. Lana realized his hand felt cool. She stared at it a moment, uncomprehending.

Then the seriousness of her plight hit her. Her stomach churned. The baby kicked, seeming to feel the adrenalin rush that coursed through her. "Oh my God", she whispered. She looked at the dials. She didn't know how to interpret them. They were still flying; maybe Smith had put them on autopilot or something?

She frantically cast her eyes over the dashboard. They focused on one gauge that seemed very familiar. _FUEL_, it said. The needle was just above "E". She looked out the window. No human structure was in sight. Trees filled the landscape, with the occasional small lake interrupting the green carpet.

She reached over, recoiling, but then screwing up her courage. She took the headset off Mr. Smith's head and put it on her own. "Mayday! Mayday!" she called. No answer. She saw where the headset plugged into the radio and started pushing buttons. "Mayday!" Only static. Her eyes widened in fear.

* * *

"Did you hear that Lana's plane is down?" Chloe rushed into Clark's barn the next morning. 

"What?" he said, rattled. He had been leaning on his pitchfork, staring at nothing when she came in.

"It's all over the news. Lana was staying at the Luthor lodge in the Canadian Rockies. She was due to fly home yesterday. Her plane didn't show up. They've been flying over where it was supposed to be according to its flight plan, but no luck. Apparently they can't find the transponder signal either", Chloe said all in one breath. "Lex has got a major search going on."

Clark stood still for a moment, then blurred into superspeed. Chloe looked on as the stalls miraculously grew clean and the animals fed. Despite her worry, she smiled; it was always fun to see Clark use his powers in front of her.

He became visible once again, in front of her. "I'm going", he said flatly. He tensed up; Chloe knew he was getting ready to run off.

"Wait!" she cried.

"What?" Clark replied shortly.

"At least pack some stuff", Chloe said, her mind working quickly. "How are you going to explain your presence when" _(or if_, her mind niggled at her) "you find her?"

Clark looked thoughtful for a moment. "There is that", he allowed.

"Besides, if she's out there in the wilderness, she'll need food and blankets and stuff", Chloe continued.

"Good point." Clark blurred away again and when Chloe took her next breath, he was standing in front of her, wearing a large backpack. A rolled-up tent and sleeping bag were at the top of the full pack. "Hey, I've always wanted to go hiking in the Canadian wilderness", he said sardonically.

"Where is she?" he asked Chloe.

Chloe pulled out her laptop and displayed a map. "I knew you'd be asking this. Here's her flight plan." Clark looked at the display, committing it to memory.

"Take care, Clark", Chloe said, coming to him and hugging him. "Bring Lana home safe. Call me if you can."

"You take care, too, Chloe." He hugged her back. Then, with a gust of wind, he was gone.

Clark put on extra effort as he headed through the Dakotas. Soon he was at the Canadian border, speeding past the highway checkpoint. He sped northward till he was at the latitude of the beginning of Lana's flight plan. He entered the forest, then stopped. He stood, still. Then he listened.

Automobile and other motor noises were filtered out first. The few human voices heard amidst this wilderness were listened to, evaluated, and discarded. Clark heard the burrowing of small rodents, the chewing of beavers on aspen trees, the birdsong. All were catalogued, processed, and eliminated from attention. Then he heard a small gasp; something in his brain latched onto it as familiar. He focused his attention that way; the gasp was repeated, then turned into regular, although fast, breathing. It sounded like Lana. He grinned when he heard Lana's voice say, _"Damn. This is all I have?"_

With a whoosh, he was off again. The large backpack was a pain; it wanted to get caught on tree branches. Finally Clark resorted to taking it off and carrying it in front of him, shielding it with one hand outthrust to push away branches.

Soon he was at a lake, forest all around the lake clearing. Lana was stranded here. Clark remained in the forest for a short time, evaluating the situation. He looked in the lake; the plane rested on the sandy bottom, below twenty-five feet of cold water. Clark grimaced as he saw the unmoving human form in the pilot's seat. On the shore, about thirty feet from the lake, Lana sat, hunched up and shivering. She had gathered a small pile of wood but apparently had no way to make a fire. She looked tired and hungry. With a sigh, she sat down on a large log and rubbed her stomach.

Clark took a deep breath. This would be tough to explain. He walked out of the forest into Lana's view. Her eyes widened in surprise as she stood up.

"Lana!" Clark said, trying to put surprise into his voice. "What are you doing here?"

"What are _you _doing here?" she retorted incredulously.

"I've always wanted to go hiking in the Canadian wilderness", Clark said innocently. "I figured after your wedding it would be a good time to be alone with my thoughts."

Lana stared at him, her mouth moving. She took breath to say something, then stayed quiet, visibly choosing to say nothing. She stared at him a moment longer. Then she gave a big smile.

"Clark, I don't know how you did it", she said softly. "But you're here to rescue me again."

"Rescue you?" he said, playing dumb.

"I was flying back from the lodge", she said earnestly, suddenly desperate to explain. "I fell asleep, and I woke up in the plane. The pilot was dead. I think he had a heart attack." She looked down and dug into the ground with one foot. "I tried using the radio, but I think we were out of range. I didn't get any answer." Suddenly she was crying. "I tried to fly the plane, but it crashed in the lake…I had to break the glass to get out…I was up all night…it was so cold…"

Clark came over and took her in his arms. "I'm here, Lana", he said softly.

* * *

Clark glanced at Lana that evening. Her color was better – she wasn't so pale and gray anymore. She seemed much more alert. She wore a sweatsuit of Clark's that he'd brought in his backpack. The waist stretched to accommodate her late pregnancy, but her arms and legs fell short of the long sleeves and legs. Clark had taken advantage of this by taking off her wet clothing, dressing her in his sweatsuit, rubbing her feet dry (and warming them up with a judicious use of heat vision), then pulling the pant legs down over her feet. He'd done the same with her hands and the sleeves of the sweatshirt. 

He'd stretched out the ground cover, then put the sleeping bag on that. He'd also set up the tent a little closer to the forest, but wanted to have Lana in the sunshine. Now Lana sat on the sleeping bag, dressed in his sweatsuit, and wrapped up in a blanket. Clark had stretched a rope between two trees in the forest, and Lana's clothing dried on the line. Clark had packed some soap, too, and had given Lana's clothes a bit of a wash (again aided by discreet use of heat vision) before hanging them to dry. He couldn't hang up her shoes but settled for propping them up, upside down against a tree stump. The setting sun shone on the drying clothing.

Lana had taken a short nap in the sunshine that afternoon while Clark got things organized. He'd taken the opportunity to dive into the lake and check out the plane. The pilot's body remained strapped in his seat; Clark looked at him, then looked away, swallowing when he realized that the lake fish had already eaten out the eyes. He'd turned his attention to seeing what could be useful in the plane. Little was salvageable aside from Lana's small suitcase, scattered tools and a plastic fishing tackle box; Clark took the items to their campsite.

Clark had gone into the forest and collected more wood to add to their fuel supply. Glancing back to be sure that Lana was still preoccupied, he'd gone into the forest, and used super-speed to collect a large pile. He'd broken up large branches into small, burnable pieces. He set the pile a short distance in the forest, where it wasn't easily visible, but could be reached with a short walk. He'd carried out some to the clearing around the lake, and had built a fire. Pretending to light it with some matches, he'd actually started it with his heat vision.

Lana had gone to the lake and collected some water in Clark's mess kit. He had a small cooking rack to suspend pots and pans above the fire, and soon (again, aided by heat vision), the water was boiling. He added one of the dehydrated meals he had in his pack, and offered it to Lana.

"Aren't you hungry?" she asked, trying to keep her eyes away from the meal, looking very hungry herself.

"I had a late lunch", Clark said, truthfully. He didn't know how long they would be in getting back to civilization, and he wanted to save the meals for Lana. "Dig in."

She did, ravenously, washing it down with tea. She finished the meal and scraped for the last bits with the spoon. Clark handed her a granola bar.

"Dessert", he said.

"Thanks." She wolfed that down too. Clark took the dishes to the lake and washed them, then looked back at Lana to see if she was watching. She wasn't, so he sterilized the dishes with a short glance and blast of heat.

He came back to their fire and sat down on the ground. Across the fire from him, Lana sighed, and stretched her legs out straight from her cross-legged position. She cradled her abdomen with one arm, then stretched her arms above her head. A burning log collapsed in the fire, sparks flying into the twilight air, their brightness quickly dying out.

Clark looked at Lana; she returned his look. He shifted his position uncomfortably and looked away. Now that the necessities of food, heat, and shelter were taken care of, he had no excuse to avoid talking with her. He only hoped that he could avoid awkward questions.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"A lot better now", she said. "Clark, you're a lifesaver. And I mean that literally."

"Thanks, Lana", he said awkwardly. A moment of silence. "Are you warm enough now?"

She smiled. "Yes, Clark, I am, and I promise I'll give you back your sweatsuit and boxers tomorrow when my clothes are dry."

"Don't worry about it", he said. "My pleasure." Another moment of silence. "You're pretty lucky about surviving aircraft crashes – you must have nine lives like a cat."

"I think I definitely used up two of those lives – when Lex's helicopter crashed and again here." Lana sat with a pensive expression, remembering back to the horrible time when she'd crawled out of the crashed helicopter, the pilot dead beside her (_just like now!_) and then had seen the black ship. Then the aliens had come out of the black ship and burned everything, and killed all those police officers…._I'm not going to think about that right now._

Clark broke into her thoughts. "I think we should make a plan how we're going to get you out of here."

"A plan?"

"I hiked here, but I don't think you're in any condition to hike out." He made a vague gesture at her swollen abdomen, the first overt acknowledgement of her condition all afternoon. They'd carefully not discussed her pregnancy, her marriage, and her husband all day long, avoiding the five-hundred-pound elephant in the room.

"I was thinking maybe I could leave you here in the campsite with the food and everything, and I could go get help", he continued.

Lana looked disappointed for a moment, then lifted her head. "That would probably be best", she agreed in a slightly trembling voice. "It's not like you could carry me all the way back to civilization."

"No", said Clark, just a little bit late. _Actually, I could, and not break a sweat_, he thought, _but that would be…unwise._

"Can I look at your maps?" Lana asked. "I want to see where we are."

_Oh-oh. _"Actually, I didn't bring any maps", Clark said, realizing too late how stupid that sounded. "I was doing it all by GPS."

Lana raised her eyebrows in mild surprise. "Can I see the GPS, then? Please", she added.

"It's solar-powered and the fire doesn't give enough light", Clark said, scrambling for a semi-believable excuse. It would be tough to explain the lack of maps, compass, and GPS unit.

"OK, then", Lana said, accepting it. "But I want to see it in the morning."

"Let's take an inventory of what we have so far", Clark said, changing the subject. "You know, when you're in a situation like this, you have to "STOP" - stop, think, organize, and plan. Look at what you have and see what your priorities are, and what you can do with what you have."

"Sounds like good advice", Lana said.

"So, our assets are a tent, sleeping bag, and ground cover." Clark made a vague gesture in the direction of the set-up tent. "In terms of food and drink, we've got a mess kit, cup and silverware, and about ten dehydrated meals."

"Then we have the clothes we're wearing, your clothes on the line, and whatever's in your suitcase."

"A tasteful selection of late-pregnancy maternity outfits." Lana smiled. "Too bad most of my toiletries were ruined by the lake. At least the clothes will dry out."

"At least you have extra socks." Clark took a sip of tea and continued. "I've got the sweatsuit you're wearing, and some extra socks and underwear. Then there's the miscellaneous stuff. A bar of soap, a small pack of disinfectant wipes, your lipstick and compact with a mirror, a lighter, your Swiss Army knife, our toothbrushes, a small tube of toothpaste and some dental floss, our billfolds with ID and money in them…" Clark trailed off.

"Money can't buy a lot right now", Lana said. "Don't forget the stuff you salvaged from the plane. How did you get that, anyway?"

"You must have kicked it out when you got out of the plane, because it was in fairly shallow water", Clark said, crossing his fingers behind his back.

"Well, you got us a Phillips-head screwdriver, a pair of pliers, and a fishing tackle box, hopefully with fishing tackle in it."

"You know, I haven't opened that box yet", Clark said. "How about you do the honors?" He went over, got the box, and set it next to her. He sat down near her, the box between them.

"Maybe we'll need to extend those dehydrated meals with some fresh fish", Lana said.

_And maybe not_, Clark thought, remembering the eyes eaten out of the dead pilot's head. He'd feel a little queasy about eating fish from this lake for a few days at least. He carefully did not mention this to Lana.

He pushed the box closer to her. "Let's see what's inside." She opened the lid. Despite a close fit, some lake water had gotten inside, soaking the delicate flies in compartments in the top tray. Lana removed the top tray, _tchking _in disappointment at the soaking.

Clark felt a pang of nausea. Lana put her hand in the tackle box, reaching in to pull out a handful of lead sinkers.

"What's this?" she began methodically transferring sinkers from one hand to the other, then back into the box. A green glow emanated from between her fingers. Clark felt worse, and tried to discreetly back away. It felt like kryptonite, he realized, alarmed.

"Look, Clark! It looks like a meteor rock sinker! You know, that pilot did say that he'd been fishing in Smallville at Crater Lake…" Lana turned to show it to him, the baleful green stone in her hand glowing brighter as it came nearer.

Clark fell back, nauseated and weak. The pain became greater and he writhed as Lana, concerned, leaned over him, still holding the meteor rock in her right hand.

"Clark? Are you all right? What's the matter?" Lana said urgently. She reached out to touch his head, bringing the kryptonite closer yet. He moaned, not sure if he should clutch his belly at the grinding nausea or put his hands to his head to stop the pounding.

"Put it away", he choked out.

"Put what away?" she asked, perplexed.

"The meteor rock", he managed to squeeze out the words. She pulled her hand back, looking at the glowing rock in perplexity. The agony receded, leaving him in only excruciating pain. "Please."

Lana looked at him, writhing on the ground, then at the stone in her hand. Suddenly her mind went back. Memories coursed through her.

_The second meteor shower had damaged her helicopter; she'd miraculously survived the crash, although the pilot died. She went away from the crashed aircraft and found aliens. Now she'd walked away from another aircraft crash and found Clark. _

_She'd been resting at the mansion after escaping from the aliens who'd come out of the black ship and killed all the police. She woke to hear an odd noise, walked down to the library, and found Lionel Luthor obsessively scraping a symbol into the parquet floor. _

_"Their home is their poison…their home is their poison…" he repeated over and over. _

_She'd lured the aliens to the mansion and had seen them grow weak in the presence of the meteor rock. But one had not gone far enough to become incapacitated, and had lifted the heavy steel vault door like it was a piece of paper. He had closed off the vault, and their weakness disappeared. _

_In the presence of the meteor rock, they'd acted the same way Clark was acting now. A vague suspicion raised its head. She flashed back to another memory._

_She was in the loft with Clark, eagerly telling him her findings. "I've been looking at the satellite footage from the first meteor shower, and there's something there that **lands.** What if someone came down in the first shower, and has been living here ever since?" Clark had remained silent, then had changed the subject, obviously not wanting to discuss the topic._

_Then she remembered the time she was with Martha Kent in the Talon, serving as a disaster relief center after the terrible tornado that had leveled Lowell County the spring of their freshman year. Martha said, "I haven't seen something like this since the meteor shower. But even in disaster, some good came out of it. It was then that Clark came into our lives."_

_Like pieces of a puzzle going into their proper places, images flashed through her mind. It was a rainy night, and she was running for her life through a storage facility. Adam Knight, the man she'd met in rehab when her leg was broken, was chasing her, and was shooting at her. She'd called Clark, knowing from previous events that he would be at the Smallville Youth Center. As she cried to Clark, "Help me!", she'd heard the bang of the rifle. She thought she was dead, but Clark miraculously appeared and knocked her out of the path of the bullet. Later on, she'd asked, "How did you get from the Youth Center to the storage facility in a split second?" He'd given a lame smile and said, "Well, time anomaly, you know." She'd accepted that; now she felt angry at herself for not realizing. She'd seen the other aliens move fast, faster than her eye could see. _

_She'd also seen police shooting at the other aliens, and saw the bullets bouncing off. She remembered Van McNulty, self-appointed "meteor freak executioner" shooting a clip at Clark, and Clark showing no effect. He'd lifted his shirt to show a homemade lead vest, green meteor rock bullets embedded in the lead. _

_She saw Perry White saying, "So far I've got your boyfriend pegged as really strong, and really fast…" She saw the meteor freak who had escaped from Belle Reve and were holding Clark, the Kents, and her hostage, saying "The word in Belle Reve is that you've got powers." She saw herself in the tornado, her truck sucked up by the power of the twister, then Clark appearing, later denying his presence, suggesting she was hallucinating things due to her head injury. She saw herself saying to Lex, "There's nothing unusual about Clark Kent", and Lex replying, "Is that what you really believe, or is that the lie you have to tell yourself to say in a relationship with him? Lana, normal people don't rise from the dead." _

Six years of oddity, of lame excuses, of inexplicable happenings coalesced into a sudden clarity. Lana sucked in her breath. She felt faint as the she realized the truth. Fear clenched her stomach. She looked at Clark, lying on the ground, quietly moaning, weakly squirming away.

"You're one of them", she whispered. _"You're an alien."_

His face told her it was the truth. Then he composed his features into what she thought of as the "Clark lying face". "No."

"Don't lie to me again!" she screamed, thrusting her hand closer to him. He cried out and hunched himself up, digging his fists into his stomach, curling into a fetal position.

"You're one of them! You're one of them!" she cried hysterically. "Get away! Get back! Get away!" She found herself sobbing, screaming. "Get away!"

"Lana…." He said weakly, raising a hand towards her. Her stomach churning, her hands trembling, Lana scrambled backward, away from him, away from _the alien._

"Get back!" she screamed. Her left hand cradled her abdomen as she thrust her right hand, meteor rock glowing, at him. He stopped trying to stand, and lifted himself up on his elbows from his prone position.

"Lana…"

"Get away!" she took one step towards him, holding the rock far away from her body. Clark inched his way backward, away from the meteor rock. He stared at her, hurt in his eyes.

"I'll go." Warily looking at her, he slowly slid backward on his stomach, away from the campfire, away from her. She stood, holding onto the meteor rock, gasping for breath, her stomach churning, heart racing. She felt the baby move, upset too.

"Get away!" she cried out, almost sobbing it. She angrily wiped tears from her eyes. Clark was about twenty or thirty feet away. He'd gotten up and was staring at her.

"Don't come near!" she said gaspingly. _Oh my God, oh my God, he's one of them, he's one of them, he's an alien, he's going to hurt me, he's one of them, he's an alien, oh my God, get away, get away, get away! _

"Go farther!" she punctuated her command by taking a few steps toward him, away from the fire. He backed up, his steps matching hers. "Stay away!" She returned to the fire.

She stood near the sleeping bag, not sure what to do. She clasped the meteor rock tightly in her hand, noticing that its eerie green glow had faded. She looked down the lakeshore; Clark was visible as a silhouette about fifty or sixty feet away. He was standing looking at her. She looked back defiantly. After a minute, he turned away from her and sat down on the beach, his knees up to his chest, his arms around his ankles. He didn't move after that.

Lana stayed standing for some time, watching him. Finally she grew tired of looking at his unmoving form, and sat down herself. She kept tight hold of the meteor rock. Disjointed images swam through her head; the combination of the plane crash, the previous sleepless night, irregular meals, pregnancy, and the stunning realization about Clark combined to give her thoughts a nightmare surreality. Her thoughts skittered from one topic to another; she jumped from a vision of the dead pilot to a memory of Clark telling one of his lies to the smell of the roses that had filled the mansion when Lex proposed to her.

She grew cold and wrapped the blanket around her. She kept an eye on Clark's unmoving form, warily eyeing him in fear. He didn't move, just stayed hunched up on the beach. She didn't know when she fell asleep, but even in her sleep, she grasped the meteor rock tightly in her hand.

* * *

Clark sat on the beach, despondent. This was a disaster. The lead sinkers must have attenuated the deleterious effects of the kryptonite. When Lana had separated them out, he'd gotten the full effect. Not expecting meteor rock up here in the Canadian wilderness, he'd been unable to hide the pain and nausea. 

Worse was the expression on Lana's face. It had gone from concern, to contemplation, then to astonishment and horror.

"You're one of _them_", she'd said. "You're an alien." Undone by the meteor rock, he couldn't keep his face from telling her the truth. He thought about it; Lana had seen other Kryptonians come out of the black ship and use their powers; she must have seen them react to kryptonite; she'd obviously put the pieces together.

He'd been afraid of this ever since she'd come to him in his loft and talked about the first meteor shower. She didn't know that she was talking to the person who _had _come down in the shower and had been living among humans ever since. He'd hoped that she'd never realize that; obviously, his hopes were doomed.

Clark hadn't wanted to tell her his secret and now he realized why. Lana's reaction was everything he had feared – disgust, fear, hate. He rocked back and forth, and held back a small moan. It wasn't due to kryptonite pain. _The look on her face…_

In all fairness, however, he could understand some of her fear - the horrifying ordeal she had gone through with the rogue Kryptonians would have marked anyone. They'd used their powers to kill and destroy, and Lana had seen most of it.

Clark sighed, wondering what it would have been like to tell her his secret before she had seen the other aliens. Would she have reacted this badly? He didn't know.

When she'd told him to get away, at first, he was only too happy to get farther away from the kryptonite and its pain. When he got to where he could actually think, he'd looked at Lana. He felt deep concern for her; she was obviously not herself, hysterical. Her racing heart, her gasping breathing told the story of her stress. Realizing that she would not or could not listen to him, he'd acquiesced, and moved slowly away down the beach, staying still, trying not to frighten her any more.

Clark heard her breathing slip over into sleep and moved near her. The kryptonite in her hand developed a subtle glow as he neared. Nausea churned his guts; he could not approach within twenty feet without becoming incapacitated. He breathed out in frustration. At least she was lying on the sleeping bag and was covered by the blanket.

He moved back up the beach. He'd have to wait till morning. Maybe then she would listen to him.

Dawn painted the lake surface with reddish highlights. The birds began singing, a few chirps gradually increasing into a full-throated chorus. Clark looked down the lakefront at Lana. She stirred in her blanket and sat up. She turned to look at him, then deliberately looked away. She held her hand open for a moment so he could see it; a green glint in her palm showed that she still held the kryptonite.

She stood up, stretching, looking tired and haggard. She cast one glance back again at him, then headed into the forest where they'd set up a primitive latrine the previous night.

Clark sat in thought for a moment, then got up and sped to the campsite. Lana and the kryptonite were far enough away that he was not affected. He felt her shoes – still wet, although her clothes were dry. He stood undecided for a moment, then squared his shoulders and went into action, using his superspeed.

Clark added more logs to the fire and heat-visioned it from coals into flames. He took the cup and the mess tin, sped to the lake, and filled them with water. He set them on the fire. While they were heating, he stood over Lana's shoes and gave them a gentle warming with the heat vision. A cloud of steam arose from the shoes; he felt them in approval – dry shoes now.

Clark rummaged in the backpack and pulled out another dehydrated meal, then went to the fire and encouraged the water into boiling with another judicious application of heat vision. He added the meal to the water, and made a cup of tea. While the food finished, he sped to the tackle box and checked out its contents.

_Hooks – not helpful right now. Fishing line – it'll be handy_. He stopped for a moment at the lead sinkers, then scooped them up.

Clark heard a small rustling in the woods, and felt a twinge of nausea. He looked – Lana approached. Apparently, she couldn't see him yet.

"I made some breakfast for you!" he called out. Looking through the forest, he saw her hesitate. She trembled. _Oh, Lana, I didn't want this to happen. _ Sadness coursed through him. Clark called again to her. "I'm going down the lake. I won't come near you."

Clark walked away at normal human speed as she approached the campsite. He matched her pace, feeling the slight twinge of kryptonite-induced pain until she had reached the campsite and he got out of range. Unlike her, he did not look back.

* * *


	2. Facing The Alien

Lana awoke. She was curled up and her feet were cold. She'd been on top of the sleeping bag and had pulled the blanket around her, but she still shivered. The rising sun gave light enough to see by, but the campsite was still in the shade.

For a moment, she was confused. What was she doing here? Then the previous day's events flooded in, and she moaned. _My plane crashed. Clark was here. Clark is an alien. Clark is one of **them. **_ She sat up, grimacing at her stiffness. She looked down the lakeshore; Clark sat there, apparently not having moved since last night. Her mind clamored, wanting her to think about everything. She ruthlessly shoved her thoughts down into a dark closet and looked down the lake again at Clark. He didn't move. She got up and stretched. _I can't think about this right now. I really have to pee. _

Coming out of the forest, she checked for the fiftieth time to see that she was still holding the meteor rock. It had become a talisman of sorts, a magic ring that guaranteed that _the alien_ wouldn't hurt her.

It was a shock then, when she heard Clark's voice. She flinched as she heard him say, "I made some breakfast for you." She hesitated, then continued walking towards the campsite, grasping the meteor rock more tightly. "I'm going down the lake. I won't come near you." His words gave her some relief; she would not have to face him.

Lana's stomach growled at the scent of the meal in the mess tin. Since being with Lex, she'd become accustomed to gourmet meals. This meal was hardly gourmet, and the presentation was, politely put, sub-par, but as she spooned it down, she thought it was the best thing she'd ever tasted. She swallowed the hot tea, feeling a little less chilled.

Then she sat, empty. What to do now? Her frantic fear of the night before had subsided into a cold dread. She walked back over to the sleeping bag and sat down on it. Things had changed. She forced herself to face it.

_Clark isn't human. _Oh God. She thought about knowing him, the boy next door, for most of her life. She cast her mind back to their days in grade school together; in retrospect, he hadn't shown any strange abilities then. Things hadn't gotten weird till high school.

Lana considered what this might mean. _The Kents must know about him,_ she thought, then mentally kicked herself. _Of course they do, they're his parents! _She felt angry at the Kents – how could they harbor an alien? Didn't they know what the aliens were like?

She sat there, not seeing the sun's rising and its travel over the lake surface as the morning passed. She obsessively reviewed their interactions over the past few years – the attraction in freshman year, obscured by her relationship with Whitney. Then the slow growth of romantic feeling through sophomore year. She realized now why that year had been marked with odd events. Then the disaster that was her broken leg, gotten when she tried to help Lex at Clark's behest, the weeks of rehab. She'd told Clark they had to break it off then, and he'd respected that. She'd gone to Paris and met Jason, but in the end, had realized Jason's ulterior motives and had gone back to Clark.

The second meteor shower and the aliens had changed something in her. She realized that there were _things _out there, things that might kill her easily, things that saw her as an insignificant annoyance, an insect to be brushed away. She'd clung to Clark, reaching greedily for life after almost losing hers. For a few months they'd had a wonderful life, a charmed romance. Clark seemed carefree. He'd been a gentle and considerate lover….her mind sheered off into panic.

"Oh God…I _slept_ with that thing!"

She leaned over and vomited up her breakfast.

* * *

Clark sat on the lake shore, stealing glances at Lana. After eating the breakfast, she'd sat down on the sleeping bag and just sat there, staring into space, doing nothing. At first she glanced at him every few minutes, but now she'd not looked at him for over an hour.

Clark sighed. He wanted to stand up and move around, but he was afraid that if he made movements that attracted her attention, that she would be frightened again. Right now he'd take the reduction in frequency of wary glances as a positive sign.

He was worried. Their food was limited. Lana was pregnant, and although he didn't know a thing about obstetrics, she looked to him like she was ready to pop. He'd counted on getting her out of here in a few days, carrying her out at normal human speed, but now she'd be freaking out if he came near her. Not only that, she had kryptonite, so she could enforce the "no-Clark zone."

Clark deliberately didn't let himself think about how Lana acted, pushing him away, the frantic expression of fear on her face, her voice screaming at him. Apparently fifteen years of friendship and five years of romantic interest didn't matter at all. Worse than that had been her looking at him like he was a _thing_, not a person. Sure, he wasn't human, but he'd grown accustomed to being treated like one. It was chilling. He knew if he let himself think about it, he'd come close to weeping.

His stomach growled. He looked down at it and growled back. He felt a little hungry, but there was no way he was going to eat any of the food he'd packed. He was saving that for Lana. Ever since the solar flare episode, he'd thought that his powers came from the sun. One time he'd tested out this theory by going without eating for four days. He certainly had an appetite and dove into his mother's cooking when he let himself eat again, but he didn't become weak or sick. He figured that he didn't need to eat now.

Now they were wasting time. Sure, the weather was good now, but who knew if it would continue that way? They really needed to get out, get back to civilization.

Clark looked down at his hands, obsessively working, pressing the lead from the fishing sinkers into a thin sheet. Lead was the only thing he knew of that would protect him from the kryptonite. He molded the lead into a vase-like cylinder.

* * *

Lana sat on the lake shore, not moving, just thinking. The initial horror had worn off. Now she felt alone, empty. Memories of Clark tumbled through her head – the two of them riding together through the green meadows of spring, Clark turning to her and laughing. Sharing coffee at the Talon. Eating dinner at the Kent house, Martha urging her to take more food. Working on the blood drive together.

"He said he had a problem with needles", Lana remembered, giving an ironic little smile, realizing now what the problem actually was. _If bullets bounce off their skin, can a needle get through?_ But then she remembered that Clark had spent hours with her, scheduling people, arranging things. He seemed so normal then.

She looked down the lakeshore; Clark still sat quietly within her view, his back to her. A tiny feeling of shame came over her, mixed with a larger helping of dread. She was going to have to talk with him. He was alien. He wasn't of this Earth. But he was Clark. She'd known him for years. But did she really know him? He'd lied about this, what else had he lied about? Anger mixed with the fear and shame.

Lana made a motion to get up, then sat down again. She clenched her fist around the meteor rock. _What am I going to do? _After a night's sleep, she realized her situation hadn't changed. She was still stranded, still in the wilderness without food, without communications, compasses and maps. No one knew where she was, and she hadn't seen any search planes. She'd been so happy to see Clark at first. Now…things were different.

The baby moved. She looked down at her abdomen; incredible as it seemed, she'd forgotten about the baby for a few hours. _What about my baby?_

Caught amidst fear, shame, anger, and dread, she didn't know what to do. Lana bowed her head and sat on the beach, just thinking.

* * *

Clark listened. Lana's heartbeat continued the same. At least it had slowed down from the frantic tachycardia he'd heard last night. The baby's heartbeat remained strong and steady. He held the lead sheeting in his hand, looked at it, then looked over his shoulder at Lana. She sat, head down, not moving.

He squared his shoulders, sighed, and got up. Lana's head lifted. A nervous expression crossed her face. He slowly walked toward her campsite, keeping his arms at his sides, trying to remain as still as possible. It was like approaching a wild animal. She would flee at the first thing that scared her. Or maybe, protecting her baby, she would lash out.

Clark stopped about twenty-five feet away from her, feeling just a twinge of nausea from the kryptonite.

"Lana. We have to talk." He said it softly, slowly.

She looked up at him, said nothing, cradled her abdomen, looked down again. .

"Lana. Please." He kept his tone even. No answer.

"Please, Lana. We have to think about what to do. I just want to talk with you. Nothing else." She looked at him again. The fear on her face pained him. "I promise I won't hurt you." He was sad that he even had to say this to Lana.

"Clark." The word dragged out of her mouth.

He remained still, didn't move a muscle, gave her an encouraging smile.

"Clark." She repeated his name, then got up stiffly. "Clark." Lana made as if to take a step toward him, then stood rocking on her feet, not moving. He could hear her breathing grow faster, coming in tiny gasps.

"Lana, how are you doing? Are you OK?" he couldn't stop himself from asking.

"I'm fine", she said dully. She looked at him, straightened her shoulders, and took a few steps towards him, reluctance on her face. Clark could hear her heart racing again. Sadly, he realized that Lana feared him; she was forcing herself to move towards him. Later on, after talking with her, and considering it from her point of view, Clark realized it was one of the bravest things she'd ever done. Then the kryptonite pain became worse, and he stepped back.

Lana looked at him in surprise as he moved back. She took another step forward; he took another step back.

_Time to get it out in the open, if she didn't see it last night. _"The meteor rock hurts me", he called to her.

Lana looked at the rock in her hand. She was afraid to put it down. But she had to talk to Clark. She stopped, incapable of deciding what to do.

"Lana, I have a case to put the meteor rock in. It'll protect me if you keep it pointed away from me. If you get worried, if you want to protect yourself, you can point it at me and I'll have to leave." He brandished the lead case.

"What?" she asked.

"The meteor rock gives off radiation that's harmful", he explained slowly and carefully. "It keeps me away."

She looked dubious. Clark knew she was afraid of him. _She doesn't want to put down her protection, _he thought.But how could they talk, how could she see his face, if he had to stay thirty feet away from her? How could he convince Lana that he meant no harm?

Clark got an idea. "Lana, think about the baby", he said earnestly. "You know that meteor rock exposure isn't a good idea. Look at all the meteor freaks in Smallville. Do you want your baby to be one of them?"

Lana stopped, thunderstricken. It was true. The horrifying realization sent chills through her. What a choice. Be without a weapon against the alien, or condemn her baby. She stood, frozen in indecision for a moment.

Clark's posture was what finally tipped the balance. He stood with the sun behind him. The bright light came from behind a cloud, silhouetting him, making it difficult for Lana to see his features. In that moment, Lana saw Jonathan Kent in the way Clark stood. Lana remembered Clark's father standing that same way, smiling; she remembered feeling safe with Mr. Kent.

"What do you want me to do?" she called to Clark.

Clark gave a sigh of relief. Keeping his voice calm, he called, "Walk back to the forest, holding onto the meteor rock. I'll come to the campsite and put this near your sleeping bag. Then I'll move away. You come and put the meteor rock in the case. Keep the open end of the case pointed away from the baby."

She nodded, and began moving back. Clark waited until she was a good distance away, then slowly walked to the campsite. This was no time for super-speed. He set the lead case down, walked away more quickly. As Lana emerged from the forest, he could feel the aura of the kryptonite. It came as a physical relief when she put the rock into the lead shielding.

Lana stood near the sleeping bag, the shielded meteor rock between her and the fire. Clark called, "I'm coming now!" He could see her tremble.

He walked even more slowly towards her, keeping his eyes locked with hers. Clark could hear her breathing speed up, her heart rate increase, feel the air vibrations of her shaking. She seemed ready to bolt as he neared the fire. Lana's hand, holding the lead-encased kryptonite, shook; the fine tremors grew larger as Clark approached.

"Lana." Clark circled around the fire, keeping it between himself and Lana, again moving slowly and carefully. Standing, he realized he could be perceived as looming over her; he deliberately sat down on the ground, hoping this would be a less intimidating posture. "Thank you." They stared at each other in silence for a moment.

"Do you want me to get some wood for the fire?" Clark asked, hoping that talk of chores would ease them into the tougher conversation.

"That's OK, you don't have to", Lana said. "Thank you for offering." Strange how one remembered polite small talk even when the world was turned upside down around oneself. She licked her lips, swallowed, and shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

Lana looked over at Clark. He sat quietly at the fire. She remembered the other aliens – how fast they'd moved, how strong their grip had been. _I can't get away from him. Even if I could run, he's faster than I am. _She stood a little straighter, took a deep breath, and said, "What are you going to do to me?"

Clark's eyes widened in surprise. "What?"

Lana avoided his gaze as she said, "Those other aliens were going to kill me. They did kill a lot of other people. Now that I know your secret—" she couldn't continue.

She looked up and saw a great sadness on his face. "Lana, I'm not going to hurt you. I would never hurt you."

Fear transmuted to anger. "Too bad your _alien friends_ didn't feel the same way", she said.

"They're not my friends!" Clark said heatedly, almost shouting. He toned down his voice when he saw her flinch. "They're just people from the same place I am. They're not my friends!" He forced himself to calm down, remain sitting, staying still. "People that try to hurt you are not my friends!" He looked away, then said more quietly, "That's why I took care of them."

Lana's eyes widened. She ignored his last statement. "The same place you came from?" she repeated. A little curiosity wormed its way up out of the blanket of dread.

Clark sighed. The fire had burned down to coals. "You remember when you asked me if I believed in life on other planets?"

Lana nodded. How ironic it seemed now.

Clark echoed her thoughts. "You had no idea how ironic I found that question. I'm from a planet called Krypton."

Lana felt weak in the knees. She'd suspected, known, but hearing Clark confirm it from his own lips…she sat down.

"Go on", she said.

He in turn seemed nervous. "I was sent here when I was a baby. My parents – I mean my adoptive parents – found me and my spaceship on the day of the meteor shower. They took me in and raised me."

"The day of the meteor shower?" Lana said. All she could seem to do was repeat things Clark had said. A vast emptiness woke in her. "My parents…."

Clark looked even sadder. "That's one reason I never wanted to tell you", he confessed. "My home planet was destroyed. The meteors are fragments of it. I didn't cause it, but I came with the meteor shower."

She could hardly hear him. A roaring arose in her ears, and she felt faint. She put her head down. "My parents…."

"I'm sorry, Lana", he said gravely.

She burst into tears. The events of the day crowded in on her, her emotions at a peak. She cried for her lost parents, for the years spent without them, the times she'd been pointed out as "the orphan, that kid on the cover of _Time_ magazine". She cried for the years of aloneness, of not belonging.

She cried, too, for the loss of Clark. Their old life together was over. It was not just their breakup and her marriage to Lex. This was a different sundering, a knowledge that he was not of Earth, that he was alien. She cried at the knowledge that she could never love him the same way again.

Clark stood as she sobbed, made an abortive movement towards her. He settled for handing her a tissue as she cried in big racking gasps. He shuffled awkwardly, wanting to comfort her, but afraid of her rejection, afraid of her being afraid of him. Lana trailed off to a few sniffles.

He looked at her, and wordlessly handed her another tissue. She gave him a weak smile of thanks, wiping her eyes and then blowing her nose.

"Will you walk with me?" Clark asked softly, gesturing down the lakefront. He extended his hand.

Lana stared at his hand for a moment, then got up without his aid. An exhausted stillness filled her. Clark put his hand down, stepped a short distance away, facing her. They stood for a moment in silence. His lips tightened as she picked up the lead cylinder containing the kryptonite, but he said nothing.

She took a few steps, not looking at Clark. He fell into step at her side and they began a slow walk down the lakefront.

Clark said nothing as they walked. Lana stole a glimpse at him; he looked straight ahead, his expression serious. Sunlight streamed across the lake surface, a small ripple of water sending reflections all around.

"Clark…" she said quietly.

"Yes?" His voice was just above a murmur.

"Who are you anyway?" she asked plaintively.

He didn't answer for a moment, then turned and looked her in the eye. She noted how green his eyes seemed at this moment – strong, piercing. "I'm a man who cares about you", he said.

Lana looked away. "Are you really?" She resumed walking. "I thought I knew Clark Kent. And now it turns out that he has this whole other side to him…" Suddenly she was full of rage. She turned to him and began hitting him, raining her fists against his chest. "How could you do this? How come you didn't tell me? How could we be together?"

Clark stood still, absorbing the blows, making no move to defend himself. He waited until her bout of fury diminished and she stopped hitting him, lowering her arms, a defeated expression on her face, tired. He said nothing for a moment. Then he turned and started walking again; Lana kept pace.

He gave a little smile. "I can understand that you'd be freaked out", he said. "I was when I found out what I was." He looked at her; saw incomprehension on her face.

"I didn't find out I was an alien till I was fourteen." He swallowed, his eyes not seeing the present, obviously remembering the past. Lana made a small questioning noise.

"I mean, I knew that I was strong, and fast, but I didn't know why. Then, one day, my father came and told me it was time for the truth." Deliberately, Clark didn't mention the whole Lex-and-the-Porsche-on-the-bridge incident. "He told me that I wasn't exactly from…._here_."

Despite her fragile grip on her emotions, Lana gave a small smile at the tone of his voice. Clark looked back at her and smiled a bit in return.

"That was the night I met you in the cemetery", he said. "I'd just had my whole world turned upside down. Then I saw you talking to your parents—" he grimaced at her look of pain, obviously not wanting to remind her of her loss – "and you helped me get through it. Even if you didn't know you did."

Lana remembered that night, twilight in the cemetery, turning behind her to see Clark, silhouetting an angel statue so that it looked as if he had wings. She remembered their quiet conversation that night that had led to so many more conversations through the years.

"Go on", she said.

""I had all these special abilities. I learned to use them more all the way through high school. I wanted to tell you. But I was afraid."

She didn't look at him, kept walking. Mixed with her surprise at hearing that he himself hadn't known was a tiny feeling of shame. Shame, that she hadn't been a good enough friend that he felt he could confide in her. Shame, in knowing that he was right to be afraid about the way she would react.

Clark continued. "I was afraid that you would see me differently." His voice was rough, the words uneven. "We went through high school. I grew to love you so much." He looked down, not wanting her to see his face. "I tried to help you."

Lana walked on, then stopped as she thought about that last statement. "Help me?"

Clark stopped too, turned to face her. Diffidently, he said, "Well, if you got into trouble, I would try to help you out." He scuffed one foot on the ground.

Images ran through Lana's mind, improbable escapes and strange events now explained. She'd had so many narrow escapes from what looked like certain disaster…She picked one memory at random. "That time Adam Knight was shooting at me and I called you at the Youth Center?"

Clark said quietly, "I really am faster than a speeding bullet." He started walking again, not saying more. Her mind awhirl, Lana took a few quick steps to catch up.

Certainty crystallized in her mind. "You've been helping other people, too, haven't you?" she demanded. "Chloe, Pete….Lex?"

He nodded.

Lana grasped his upper arm, stopping him. She looked up at him. "Why?"

"Because I can." Clark faced her squarely. "If you had the power to help someone, you would do it too. I know you would."

"I wonder if I really would, Clark", she said, dazed. Memory flooded her mind; how many weird things had gone down in Smallville? She thought of how many times Clark had been there. How many people had he saved? "I don't know if I could do what you've done." They walked on for awhile in silence, Lana thinking. Clark didn't say anything, taking his long slow steps.

They continued their slow walk down the lakefront. Lana grew aware of her aching feet. This far into her pregnancy, it was no joke to go on a half-mile walk, especially on irregular terrain. She gestured at a log. "Can we sit down?"

Clark looked at her, concerned. "Are you OK?"

"I just need to sit down for a minute." She sat down and set the lead-encased kryptonite at her feet.

"Do you want something to drink?" he asked.

She ran her tongue over dry lips, realized that yes, she was thirsty. "Did you bring a water bottle with you?"

"Not exactly." He smiled. "I'll get some for you, if you won't be freaked out."

"Freaked out?" Now she was nervous.

"One cup of water coming up." There was a blur, a gust of wind, and he stood in front of her holding the cup from the mess kit, full of water. It looked cool and appetizing. She reached for it.

"Wait a minute. That's lake water. Let me boil it first." Clark stared at the cup; steam rose from it and in a few seconds the water boiled. Lana saw his eyes – they almost looked _red_. Despite herself, she shrank away a little. "Then let's cool it down…" he blew on the cup; fantastically, the steam was replaced by frost. He handed her the cup. Lana stared at it, not taking it from his hand.

"Take it", Clark said, encouragingly.

Lana, trembling, reached for the cup, lifted it, held it.

"Go ahead", Clark said.

Lana lifted the cup to her lips and drank. The water was cool and refreshing.

"Um…that was…interesting…" Lana said. Her surprise and _let's face it, fear_, made it difficult for her to talk. "The last time I saw – what would you call it? the heat vision thing – the aliens from the black ship were using it to toast helicopters and burn up police officers."

Clark looked chagrined. "I'm sorry", he said. "I should have realized…" His voice became resolute. "I hope you know I would never do anything like that." He said in a softer tone, "Now that you know…I wanted to show you some things. I don't want to scare you."

She nodded. This new Clark Kent seemed much like the old one. Now that they were actually talking, she wanted to ask him questions.

Her hands ached where she had hit Clark. It was like pounding on steel. Lana thought back to the aliens in the black ship. _The police shot them and the bullets bounced off. _"You're bulletproof, too, aren't you?" Lana asked.

"Yes." Clark said it softly.

She thought back to a memorable night. "When you came to me that night in the Talon…"

"What?" He obviously remembered that night too, no additional description needed. The night their love became physical.

"Your lip was cut." She remembered kissing the swollen area, re-starting the bleeding.

Clark gave a sigh. Suddenly he looked much sadder. "That's a long story."

"We're stuck right here for awhile."

"Well…" he seemed disinclined to start. Then, under the pressure of her unblinking stare, he started talking.

"When I came to you that night, I had, um…renounced…my powers." He swallowed. "I was human then."

Lana felt a vast surprise.

Clark continued. "I could be hurt then. Physically, I mean." He lifted his hand, moved it to hers. She didn't pull away; he held her hand. "Those were the best months of my life, when I was with you. I was human. I wasn't some freak. I fit in." He looked her in the eye. "I thought about getting married, about having children…" he broke off.

"What happened, Clark?" Lana asked softly.

"I got shot." The words fell flatly. "I died. You remember that day."

"I do." Even now, a year or more after the event, she could recall her desolation, the sheer sense of unfairness at his life being cut off, their time together truncated so abruptly.

"I…came back. But my human life was dead." A pause. "That was the price." His words, barely whispered, touched her. "I had to be…what I am… now." He withdrew his hand from hers, put his head in his hands.

Lana thought about touching him on the shoulder, settled for clasping her hands together. "Clark…"

He lifted his head. "Didn't you wonder? Wonder about what happened? How come you never said anything?"

Lana sighed. She certainly had wondered. Clark's body had been lifeless in the hospital bed. Then it was missing. Hours later, she'd come to the Kents' house to commiserate with Mr. and Mrs. Kent. She couldn't believe her eyes when Clark walked into view. How could he be alive? He'd held her close, saying nothing, almost crying as he hugged her. She remembered the burned smell in her nostrils, the roughness of his ragged jacket rubbing on her as he held her.

"I figured it was a miracle. I was just happy that you were alive. I actually didn't want to think about it too much. But then things changed after that…"

Clark gave a tiny, bitter grin. "Now you know why." His voice showed his regret. "I had to go back to keeping this secret from you, go back to lying to you."

Revelation encompassed her. "That's why you wouldn't make love to me!" Suddenly it made sense. Relief washed through her. It _wasn't_ her fault. She _wasn't_ to blame. All the late nights lying awake in bed, worrying about what was wrong with her…

"Yes." He stirred the sand at their feet with a small twig. "I was too afraid of hurting you. I'm so strong…"

Lana looked away and shivered as she suddenly understood the implications of his words.

Clark continued. "I couldn't be honest with you. I lied every day." He avoided her glance, dug aimlessly at the sand some more. His voice lowered. "I lost you." He took a deep breath. "I'm sorry."

Lana didn't know what to say. This new Clark, this vulnerable Clark, rocked the foundations of her world. "Clark…" she said, trailing off. _If you'd told me, I'd have…what? Freaked out? _She really didn't know.

Her heart beat rapidly. His tall strength sat next to her; she felt it. Slowly, Lana reached out and took his hand. Clark looked up, surprised, then lifted his lips in a shy smile. Lana lifted his hand closer to her face, examined it. The same fingers, so much longer than her own, the palm smooth despite his farm work. She took his other hand, her smaller hands dwarfed by his. Those hands had held her, caressed her, supported her. _They look so…human._

They sat in silence for a long time, neither one wanting to talk, both lost in thought. Lana found herself looking back at the previous five years with Clark from a new viewpoint now. Slowly she grew easier with his presence, realizing that Clark could have done anything to her at any time – and he hadn't. Clark seemed content to sit by her, making no noise, letting her think; he said nothing, offered no conversational openings. She wondered what he was thinking right now.

Eventually Lana let go of his hands; Clark shrugged and moved a little closer to her. He cast a wary glance at the lead-encased meteor rock; the open end of the cylinder pointed away from him.

Lana continued staring out at the lake; the long northern summer twilight was approaching. They'd managed to kill the whole day dealing with Clark's revelation. A goose raised up in the water, batting its wings, calling out, honking.

"What now?" she asked softly.


	3. Some Acceptance

He stood. "Well, the first thing is to get you back to the tent for some rest and an evening meal." Deliberately he did not mention anything but the immediate present, the action needed right now.

"I guess so." Lana stood, her ungainly body slow to arise. She staggered a little as she straightened up.

Clark's arm was around her, supporting her; she hadn't seen him move. "Are you all right?"

"Just a little stiff", she said ruefully. Her back ached and her feet were swollen. She couldn't wait till she had the baby.

"Can I carry you back to the campsite?" Clark asked carefully.

Lana considered it. Options: being held by Clark, when she still felt a little…funny…about him. Or, on the other hand, a half-mile hike with swollen feet down an irregular lakeshore, having to climb over dead branches and sink into the sand. For some reason, she flashed back to a memory of a day in Smallville when she and Clark were five; Mr. and Mrs. Kent were correcting Clark's manners.

"_But I wanted it!" _

"_Clark, Lana is your guest. You always offer your guests the cookies first." Martha Kent gave Clark the Family Look – a significant glance that Lana knew about, getting it regularly herself from Aunt Nell. _

_Mr. Kent chimed in. "We expect you to be polite, son", he said. _

"_Sorry", Clark said abashedly, handing her the plate of cookies. _

Lana gave an inward smile and made her decision.

"Carrying me - that would be nice", she said softly. Clark moved behind her, began to put his arms around her, obviously ready to scoop her up. Then he staggered back, and collapsed.

"Clark! What is it?" Lana asked, turning to him in concern.

"The meteor rock…"

Lana looked; the lead cylinder's open end pointed toward him. She quickly bent down and turned it away. Clark's agonized motions subsided; the gray cast to his complexion disappeared. He sat on the ground, panting heavily.

_Clark's not kidding. The meteor rock really does hurt him. _Lana thought about that, thought about how she'd just talked with Clark, walked with him. He hadn't hurt her. In fact, he seemed more concerned about her being afraid of him. _That rock…I actually hurt **him** with it. _

Lana reached for the lead cylinder, swung around, and offered it to him. He leapt up, fear on his face, and backed away. Lana looked at the cylinder, looked at Clark, and made a decision.

"Clark." She checked the cylinder; it was pointed directly away from Clark. "I was hoping you could seal this."

He looked at her in astonishment. Lana stood still, holding the meteor rock. "Can you seal it?" she asked again.

Clark dragged his gaze down to the cylinder, then back to her. Then he gave her a wide smile. "Yes." Then he said, more softly, "Thank you."

Carefully he walked to her and took the lead object in his hands. Holding it much as one would hold an unexploded bomb, he inched his fingers up the walls of the cylinder. Never putting his hand in front of the opening, he flexed his fingers. The open end of the cylinder crimped shut. Clark gave a sigh of relief and relaxed.

Lana reached for the lead object. "I think we should still take this out of here", she said. "I don't want to put lead in the lake." Clark looked dubious, but said nothing as she tucked it into her pocket.

She looked at Clark; apparently the meteor rock sickness had passed. He seemed fine now. "What's that like?" she asked curiously.

"It really hurts", he said shortly. Then he swallowed and said, "I know you might feel you need to protect yourself…"

Lana thought about it, felt surprise at how fast her feelings had changed. Apparently, her subconscious had decided to trust him. "No. No. You're OK." She reached out and held his hand again. Clark moved a little closer, took her in his arms.

"Are you ready to go back to the campsite?" Clark asked her. She nodded.

She gave a little gasp as he swung her up, holding her across his body. Lana had forgotten how warm he was; she could feel his body heat through his thin T-shirt. It felt good; she was getting a little chilled.

"Slow or fast?" Clark asked her, a teasing tone in his voice.

"What?"

"I can take you back to the campsite at a regular walking pace – or you can go with the speed."

Lana considered it. She was curious now. _This is **Clark** – he won't hurt me._ She laughed and said, "Speed for sure."

Clark seemed to pick up that she had relaxed, that she was easier with him now. He laughed too. "OK."

Lana looked at the lake. She turned her head back to Clark. She saw him tense his muscles. Then a breeze, a blur, and she was back at the campsite. She held onto him for a moment more before he let her down.

"Wow."

Clark stood by her, seemingly amused by her amazement. "Are you OK?" he asked.

"Um…yeah. That was…a little, ah, unusual."

"I can do more, you know", he said earnestly.

Lana rubbed her back and sat down on the sleeping bag. "Can you do that water thing again?" she asked.

"No problem." Quickly he presented her with another cup of boiled, then cooled lake water. He stood, viewing the campsite as she drank.

"I think you need some dinner, Lana." Clark walked to the backpack, rummaged in it for another dehydrated meal. "This will take a little more time."

Despite his warning, it wasn't long at all before she was digging into the hot meal, appetite sharpened by the clean outdoor air. The fresh air, scented with wood smoke from their fire, added spice to the otherwise bland meal. She ate several bites before she noticed, guiltily, that he hadn't cooked for himself.

"What about you?" Lana asked. She mentally counted backwards. "You haven't eaten in a day."

"I'm all right", Clark said. "Don't worry about me."

"No, that's not right, Clark!" Lana said, thrusting her mess tin and spoon towards him. "You've got to keep up your strength…" she trailed off.

Clark began laughing, a full throated belly laugh. Whoops of laughter filled the night. "Keep…my…strength up!" he choked out between guffaws. He thought about going to the forest and uprooting a tree or something, just to show her. Regretfully he decided against it. It might scare her again.

Lana giggled a little bit, too, as she realized what she'd said. She caught Clark's eye; soon she was howling with laughter along with him. The tenseness between them dissolved.

"Actually, I am OK, Lana", Clark said, as their laughter dwindled away. "I can go a lot longer without food than you can." He reached over, held his long, muscular arm up against her petite one. "Ah…the, um, the…_alien…_heritage aside, I still outweigh you by a hundred pounds. I've got a lot more body mass than you do." He lowered his arm. "If I need to eat something tomorrow, I'll hunt or something." He gave her a hopeful look. "Do you know anything about edible plants?"

"Unfortunately, no." Lana smiled apologetically. "Regrettably, my wilderness survival education is deficient."

Clark said, "Besides, you've got to eat for your little girl, too."

Lana stiffened. "Girl?" _How do you know that?_

She could see Clark's eyes shutter, the expression she'd seen so often when he was going to lie to her, before she _knew_. Then he apparently realized it didn't matter anymore. He gazed at her directly, then looked at her abdomen. "I can see her."

"You can see her?" Lana repeated.

Clark seemed diffident again. "I can see through things."

"See through things?" Lana seemed to be able only to repeat what he said.

Clark scuffed the ground with his foot. "It's…it's like seeing with x-rays." He looked down at his foot, apparently fascinated by the knot in his shoelace, avoiding her gaze. "I call it x-ray vision."

The redundancy slipped by Lana as she stiffened and shrank back from Clark again.

_Oh, no, back to the beginning_, Clark thought. Apparently he'd just freaked Lana out again. He thought he'd gotten her calmed down fairly well, but his slip of the tongue had only emphasized once again how different he was. Again, he sat quietly, making no moves, not reaching to her, trying not to frighten her.

Clark looked at Lana; she hunched up, making herself as small as possible. A moment passed. Then she sat straighter, posture erect. Her expression changed from fear to anger.

"And you've been looking at me, haven't you?" she asked. "Looking _inside _me…" She swallowed. "How long have you been doing that?"

"No, Lana!" Clark rushed to deny it. "I did look at you right at the beginning when I got here. I wanted to make sure you were OK. But since then I haven't used it."

"Yeah, right."

"No, really! It only works when I focus, and I do _not _use it to invade other people's privacy!" He pleaded in a desperate voice, trying to make her believe him.

"What other powers do you have, Clark?" Lana demanded. "There's so much you haven't told me. How can I trust you? Let me know."

Clark sat speechless for a moment at the venom in her voice. Then he realized the basis of her fears. He was alien, unknown, different. She was vulnerable, and pregnant. Her first thought was to protect her baby. Was he a threat? In Lana's mind, maybe.

"OK", he said, trying to keep a calm, soft voice. He gave her an reassuring smile. "Do you want demonstrations, or can I just tell you?"

Lana relaxed a little bit at his even tone. "I think you can just tell me. I've seen you do the heat-vision thing and that was scary enough."

Clark's lips tightened at this description, but he didn't contest it. "I'm sorry, Lana, I didn't mean to scare you."

"Just tell me what you can do so I don't have to get freaked out anymore", she said.

Clark stood up, moved back a little so he wasn't looming over Lana. He felt almost embarrassed telling her what he had concealed for so long. He moved across the fire from her.

"Well, I'm strong." He started with the simplest.

"How strong?"

"Um…I can lift up our tractor." He didn't tell Lana that he thought he was stronger than that, that the tractor-lifting didn't strain him at all.

"Yeah, I would call that strong", she said with a sarcastic note in her voice.

Clark ignored the bite. "And I'm fast."

"How fast?"

He thought about saying, _as fast as those aliens from the black ship_, but decided that would be a bad idea. "I can run from Smallville to Metropolis in about thirty seconds." Actually, he could do it faster, but thirty seconds somehow sounded more palatable.

Lana took on a pensive expression. "That's why I'd see you in Metropolis all the time. I always wondered how you had time to deal with the farm and come and see me too".

"It's helpful in getting the chores done too. And I wanted to see you." Clark's voice sank low as he remembered meeting her in her dorm, going out, having someone to date, having someone who cared. "I loved our time together." _And I lost it. We could have been together. _

Clark continued. "There's the heat vision. You saw me boil the water."

"Yes", she agreed. Apparently she didn't have questions about that. Of course, she'd seen the aliens in the black ship turn a bunch of police officers into well-blackened toast. _Better not to dwell on the heat vision_, he thought.

"And the X-ray vision thing." He winced as anger came back on her face.

"How much have you been snooping, Clark?" she asked.

"Really, I'm not", he said earnestly.

She pursed up her lips in a moue of disbelief.

"No, really. Come on, Lana. If you could look at people, underneath, what would you see? I don't want to see a lot of underwear and stuff. There's such a thing as too much information, you know."

She gave a tiny smile. Emboldened, he continued. "I'm not a Peeping Tom, Lana. I did look at you – the x-ray looking – when I got here, but I haven't looked at you that way since our sophomore year."

He answered her unspoken question, the quizzical expression on her face. "When Tina Greer was masquerading as you and I had to look for the meteor rock in her skeleton. That was the only way I could tell her apart from whoever she was pretending to be." _I had to make sure you were you and not her_, the unspoken subtext. "I only use it for emergencies, like seeing if people are hurt."

She still looked disbelieving, but gestured to go on, apparently giving him the benefit of the doubt.

"I have the breathing thing."

"The breathing thing?"

"Um, yes, you saw it when I cooled down the boiling water. It's the ability to breathe out large volumes of air, really fast and hard. Or I can super-cool my breath."

"How do you do that?" she asked, looking fascinated, momentarily forgetting her wariness.

"I'm not really sure, but I think I can extract energy from the air I inhale to the point where it turns liquid. Then I can turn it back into a gas which increases the volume, or leave it close to liquid. Liquid air is at a pretty cold temperature."

Sounded good to him; he'd never really thought about it before and he was scrambling for a plausible-sounding answer.

"So, you're strong, and fast, and have the heat vision and the x-ray vision and the breathing thing. Anything else?"

"My skin is pretty strong. I've been shot before and the bullets didn't penetrate."

Lana began breathing faster. Clark could hear her heartbeat speed up again. "Are you OK?" he asked her.

She sat back. "Just had a flashback to the time the…other…aliens from the black ship came. The police fired so many bullets at them." A pause. "It didn't affect them at all."

Clark moved a little closer to her, reached over to take her hand. She let him do it. He squeezed it gently. "But it's not like I'm wearing armor or something. For example, I can still feel you." He gave her an encouraging smile.

Slowly, Lana's breathing and heartbeat returned to normal. Clark hoped it meant that she was coming to accept him.

"What else?" she asked.

"Well, I can hear pretty well."

"Pretty well?"

Clark sighed and told her. "I didn't need GPS to come here. I listened for your voice and heartbeat and that's how I found you."

Shock crossed her face. She was speechless.

Clark continued. "In fact, it's a pretty good thing that I did, because you know you're way, way off the flight plan that your pilot filed."

"I'm not sure how long the plane flew after he died…" she said weakly. Then she rallied. "Clark, you're saying you could hear me _from Smallville_?"

He thought about saying, _Well, I could have if I'd listened from there._ He contented himself with telling her, "No, I heard you when I was up here in Canada away from the big cities."

She still looked incredulous.

"That's another thing I have to focus on to use it", he said. "I don't go around hearing everything in the world."

"What else can you hear?" Lana asked.

"Well, just the stuff that you would hear, unless I work at it." He scuffed his foot in the dirt, looking at the sparks flying from the fire. The sky had darkened from twilight to full night during their conversation. "It's that too-much-information thing again, Lana."

She nodded in understanding after a moment.

"That's about it", he finished.

"Are you sure?" she asked sharply. "You're not going to tell me that you have some other strange alien powers, like telepathy or time travel or something?" She continued ranting as Clark smiled ruefully. "I mean, this is all a big shock to me. Finding out that someone you thought you knew has all these powers and has been hiding them…Next you're going to tell me that you can fly!"

"Um…no." Clark thought about saying, _Not yet_, but salved his conscience by telling himself that right now, he couldn't. "But I can run really fast."

"I think we talked about that already." Her voice was tart.

He went for the comic relief. "All of those abilities are at your service, Madame", he said grandiloquently, bowing with a flamboyant sweep of a non-existent hat.

Lana gave a little giggle and relaxed.

"No, really, I mean it, Lana", he said in a more serious tone. "You're my friend." _We were more than friends once, _he thought, but carefully didn't say it. He didn't need to; he could tell that Lana was thinking that too.

Clark sat down again next to Lana, keeping quiet, watching the fire. The logs glowed a deep red at the base of the pile; a tiny crackling noise arose at intervals.

"So how are we going to get out of here?" she asked, dropping the what-are-Clark's-powers subject. Clark hoped he'd satisfied her on that score.

"Well, I've been doing some thinking about that." Clark leaned forward and stirred the fire with a branch. Sparks flew into the night air. "Now that you know about my abilities, things are, um, different now."

"You could say that", Lana agreed in a low voice.

"I thought about carrying you out at super-speed. But then I realized that even though the trees and branches wouldn't hurt me, you could get injured if you ran into one at super-speed. So speeding is out for you."

Lana felt curiously disappointed.

Clark continued. "I don't think you're really in any shape to walk. So there's two options. One: I can leave you here with the food and the tent and all the gear, and I can run at super-speed and come back with help."

Lana grimaced; she didn't relish the thought of being left alone. "How long would it take?"

"I could get to the nearest city pretty fast, but then it would take some time to get a rescue party out here. I think they'd have to fly in, and that means getting a water-landing plane. Or maybe they'd have to come in with horses and that would take a long time. I'm not really sure."

"What's option two?" she asked.

"That's where I carry you out, but at regular human walking or running speed. That would take a few days."

Lana considered that for a moment. "What would we do about water?"

"I think I remember where some streams are, that I passed on the way in. But if we couldn't get to a campsite with a stream or lake in time, I'd get you set up with the tent and then I'd just run back here to get water."

"Oh. That would work." Lana felt a little dazed; she was only beginning to understand the implications of having Clark on her side.

"I could run to a town and get a distress beacon", he mused. "But the problem is that they would wonder why you didn't use it right away. And if you said it was in the lake, they would wonder how you got it out of a crashed plane. And they would look into it and find out that it didn't come with the plane, and then they'd start asking questions about how you got it…" Clark trailed off.

"That would blow your cover", she said flatly.

"Yes", he said. Then he looked at her, almost-desperation in his eyes. "Lana, I've lived here on…on Earth my whole life, almost. I act like a human, I think like a human, I feel like a human. If it gets out that I'm not…" he frowned. "You've seen the paparazzi. Heck, you know what it's like to be in their sights since you married Lex. You're a target to them, that's all."

"I know", she said quietly. She thought back to the days after her engagement was announced, the wedding. The crowd of reporters, photographers, TV news gatherers, and just plain gawkers had actually frightened her. They'd pushed in on her, sticking their microphones under her face, screaming her name to get her attention, asking for a quote, a picture, the inside story of what it was like to live with Lex. Thank God for Luthorcorp Security. They'd held back the masses, kept them from crushing her.

It still wasn't good. She still had to have a bodyguard when she went out anywhere, and, although the novelty had worn off, she still got photographed regularly, reporters jumping up like jack-in-the-boxes just when she thought she was done with them.

"Please don't tell them, Lana", Clark pleaded. "Think of what it would do to my mother…" He swallowed. "They'd want to investigate me, put me in a lab somewhere…I'd have to be a fugitive. I'd have to leave Smallville, everyone and everything I care about…"

Wow. Clark had a real phobia about this. Then Lana was ashamed as she thought about it. He'd obviously had a lot more time to consider the possibilities than she had.

"I know what it's like to be in their sights", she said fiercely. "I'll help you keep your secret, Clark."

He gave a sigh of relief. "Thank you." He stirred the fire once again. Then he asked quietly, "Will you tell Lex?"

Lana looked up in confusion. "He is my husband…."

Neither of them mentioned the ill will between Clark and Lex, the numerous warnings Clark had given her about marrying Lex, the recriminations she'd thrown back at him, the many arguments they'd had.

"Please, Lana", Clark said softly.

She looked away and said nothing.


	4. More Acceptance

Clark sighed and stood up. "Well, do you want to plan on me carrying you out starting tomorrow morning?" he said resignedly.

"That would be good", she said, trying to keep a businesslike tone.

"I guess we'd better get to bed now, then", he said. Then Clark looked over at the clothesline where her clothes from the suitcase still hung. "Are they dry yet?"

Lana walked over and felt her nightgown. "It's dry."

"Let me boil some water for us to brush our teeth in, and if you want to wash, I can heat up more water."

She smiled, again amused at the use of his abilities for such ordinary purposes. She thought about teasing him about it, but then settled for a quiet "Thank you."

Clark suited the thought to the deed and soon they stood next to each other, brushing their teeth, then rinsing with the boiled water.

"I didn't think you'd have to brush your teeth, being an alien and all", she asked him, curious now.

"Are you kidding? My parents insisted on it. They were big on oral hygiene." Clark chuckled at the memory. "They never wanted me to have to go to the dentist. Hey, do you want some floss?"

"Um, sure." They carefully didn't look at each other while flossing; _one of those too-much-information moments, _thought Lana, realizing what Clark meant by that.

"Here's the washcloth and some soap. If you want I can bring the mess tin here and heat up the water, or you can go down to the lake and rinse with the cool water there", Clark offered.

"The lake", Lana decided. "I want to get clean so bad!" She felt gritty and sweaty and sticky. She hadn't washed last night, in shock over the whole Clark revelation. Then she'd spent a lot of today in fear and anxiety. Her clothes felt disgustingly dirty. "In fact, I might walk in and take a bath in the lake. If you could heat up the water in the tin then I could rinse with it."

"No problem." Clark went to the backpack, pulled out a towel. "Can I be your valet?" He walked by the clothesline and pulled off her nightgown.

They walked down to the lakeshore. Lana handed Clark the bar of soap. "Can you hold this for a minute?"

"Sure." Clark stood there, not moving, holding Lana's towel, washcloth, and nightgown in one hand, and the bar of soap in the other. It had a fresh scent. He looked at the lake, and at Lana. She walked to the lake, scooped up a pan-full of water and offered it to him. Without comment, he gave the soap back to her, took the pan from her, aimed his heat vision at it till it seemed to be right, then walked closer to the lake and set it near the waterline.

Lana made a move to take off her sweatshirt, and then said, "Clark…"

"Oh." He turned around, ostentatiously showing that he wasn't looking.

"Soap, please", Lana asked as she put her hand in his and took the soap. "Now don't turn around till I call you."

He could hear Lana walking towards the lake, then heard a small gasp of surprise as she walked in. Apparently the lake was colder than she'd realized. He heard splashing noises as she took the fastest bath she'd taken in quite some time. Despite the apparent cold, Clark noticed that she took the time to soap and rinse her hair. He could hear her reach for the pan of hot water, and sigh as she poured it over herself, warming her up.

Clark walked backwards to the lake, aiming for Lana, guided by his hearing. "I have your towel ready, Madame", he said in a mock-French accent. He walked past the pile of dirty clothes she'd left on the shore.

"Thank you, Jacques", Lana said, getting into the joke. Clark remained with his back turned while she dried herself, then handed him back the towel. He offered her the nightgown; she took it.

"You can turn around now", she said.

Clark turned. In a formless but comfortable nightgown, she looked much younger and more vulnerable than she had in the bulky sweatsuit. Her hair, frizzed out by the impromptu shampoo and the towel-drying, made a dark halo effect around her face. She stood, shivering, on the lake shore.

"You're cold", he said, abandoning the French accent. "Let's get you to bed."

"The clothes?" Lana looked at the sweatsuit, socks, and underwear she'd left on the shore.

"I'll take care of them."

He asked permission with a glance. She nodded and he picked her up and carried her back to the tent. Clark set her down on the sleeping bag, then, at her request, got her comb and brush out of her bag. She sat at the tent entrance, brushing her hair. Clark could see her shiver in between each brushstroke.

"Tomorrow we've got to get you a hot shower", he said.

A longing gleam flashed in her eyes. "That would be wonderful…can you do it?"

"I've got some ideas", Clark said musingly. _Maybe if I splash up water with my hand at superspeed while putting the heat vision on it?_

Her shivering interrupted his thoughts. "You're really cold", he said, realizing.

"Y-y-yes. That lake was colder than I thought." She laughed ruefully. "It gets cold fast here at night." She stopped brushing her hair to hug herself, hunching up.

"Lana…" Clark said diffidently. "If you'll allow me…?"

She looked at him; he gestured toward his eyes.

Lana trembled for a moment, remembering the horrific day she saw the other aliens use what she now knew was their heat vision to destroy property and kill people. Despite herself, she shrank back.

Clark looked abashed, belatedly realizing this might not be the best thing to offer. "Sorry", he said, embarrassedly, starting to back out of the tent.

Lana saw Clark's hurt expression, mentally kicked herself. _I decided to trust him._

"No, wait a minute, Clark", she called. He poked his head back into the tent.

"OK", she said slowly. "Thanks for thinking of me." She straightened her shoulders. "Just don't make it too hot, OK?" she said, trying to say it lightly, but failing.

Clark seemed to understand. "You'll be OK, Lana", he said reassuringly. He kept the heat vision intensity down to a gentle warming. Clark started at her feet, actually taking them one at a time in his hand and brushing off the sand. He could feel the cool skin warming up.

"That feels good", Lana said, stretching her toes a bit.

He didn't reply, but slowly moved his vision upwards, moving back as he did so to include a larger area. Lana stopped shivering, stopped being curled up. She leaned back on her arms, stretched her legs, and almost purred like a cat. Her pregnancy-swollen abdomen pushed the nightgown upward.

"Please…go on."

"Close your eyes", Clark said roughly. She did, and he bathed her face with the warming heat vision. Then he swept back down her body, ending up at her feet.

"Oh, Clark, that was nice", Lana said, opening her eyes. I'm so warm now…" She climbed into the sleeping bag. "Thank you."

There was an awkward moment as their eyes met. Then Clark said, "I'm going down to the lake to wash."

"OK."

He walked away from the tent entrance, leaving it open a bit. _Good thing it's dark enough so that the mosquitoes have gone away_, Clark thought. He hoped that Lana hadn't realized that he'd kept a gentle breeze going around her during the twilight hours when the mosquitoes were at their worst, fending off the tiny bloodsuckers. He didn't worry about himself. Not only was his scent wrong, they'd never be able to bite him.

Before he headed to the lake, he sped around the campsite, getting things cleaned up and organized for their departure tomorrow. Then he headed towards the lake.

He looked at the pile of Lana's soiled clothes. He took off his own, and threw the pile into the lake. Soaping the clothes a little, he heated the water a bit, agitated it, and washed the clothes. He sped back to the campsite and hung them on the line, hoping Lana wasn't watching. They'd seen each other nude before but it was different now. He considered his options, then heat-visioned the sweatsuit till it was dry.

Clark went to the backpack and pulled out his spare pair of boxers, hanging it on the line beside the sweatsuit and the towel. Then he went to the lake and took a bath. The cool temperature didn't bother him.

It felt good to be clean; normally, he didn't sweat, but the kryptonite had caused some serious perspiration. Clark counted himself lucky he hadn't vomited down his shirt; kryptonite exposure had caused _that _before.

He finished bathing, then sped back to the campsite. He toweled off, then quickly put on his boxers and sweatsuit. Normally he'd just sleep in his boxers, but with Lana being here…there might be an embarrassing situation.

Clark sat on a log by the fire, staring into the red coals that remained. He planned on curling up on the ground there once he felt a little sleepier. Lana's voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Clark? Clark?" She poked her head out the tent entrance.

"What?"

"Aren't you coming in?" she asked.

He looked at her a moment. Frankly, he didn't know what to do. The way she'd acted earlier, he felt that he should stay away. Yes, Lana acted like she'd calmed down, but he didn't want to push his luck. But now, here she was, asking for him.

"Clark. Were you planning on spending the night out on the ground?"

"I did last night", he said. Just reminding her, in case by some crazy reason she'd forgotten. He eyed her suspiciously.

But no, it seemed that Lana had had an attitude change. She looked embarrassed and said "Well, you don't need to tonight." Clark sat by the fire a little longer, nervous. Lana swallowed and said in a tiny voice, "Please, Clark."

He got up and walked to the tent. "Are you sure?" he asked her. Clark could tell that, just like him, she was remembering the days when they'd slept together for romantic purposes. _Those days are over now._

"Yes. She shivered; apparently the heat vision warm-up had worn off.

Clark looked at her in concern. "Are you OK?" he asked.

"I'm a little chilly again." She disappeared back into the tent. Her voice floated out. "Maybe you can warm me up again?"

Clark crawled into the tent. She'd opened the sleeping bag and spread it out so it covered the floor of the tent. Apparently instead of bundling up in the bag, she planned on covering herself with the lightweight blanket.

"Hold me, Clark", she whispered.

He stretched out on the sleeping bag, reached for her, and pulled the blanket over them. At this stage of her pregnancy, Lana found it very uncomfortable to sleep on her back. She lay on her side, facing away from him.

Lana's shivers subsided as Clark pulled her closer to him. He was like a furnace, putting out a steady heat. She was so cold lately – just couldn't seem to keep warm. He was so much taller than her that she could stretch out and still be within the confines of his body's heat.

"Lana?" Clark asked cautiously.

"What?" she mumbled, already halfway into sleep.

"Are you, um, are you, OK, with this?" Clark really didn't know how to put it. He supposed he meant something like, _Are you OK sleeping with an ex-lover while nine months pregnant with your husband's baby when you're trapped up in the Canadian wilderness and just found out that your lover isn't human? That he's an alien that you just attacked but now you're changing your mind and you're OK with him?_ Somehow it just seemed hard to put in words.

She opened her eyes, tried to look back over her shoulder at him. She got ready to say something, then didn't say it; then did the same thing again. Clark, in suspense, said, "What?"

Lana suddenly gave a big smile and said, "I trust you, Clark." Then she deliberately closed her eyes and rolled back over. She nuzzled her forehead into his chest, hearing his heartbeat. She gave a little sigh. Soon her breathing segued into the smooth rhythms of sleep.

Clark held her, listened to her breathing and the two heartbeats of mother and child. Slowly he gave a small smile. Hopefully Lana meant what she'd said. He hoped it meant that they'd come to a new understanding. He especially hoped it meant she wasn't going to tell Lex.

_If Lex knew--_ Clark's mind spiraled down a path of frightening what-ifs. Somehow they all ended up with him trapped somewhere, menaced by kryptonite, forced to do Lex's bidding. He visualized the farm under siege, not only by reporters and TV crews, but by soldiers. His mother, tarred with the brush of harboring an illegal alien – and not the kind from Mexico. He saw his mother's Senate career derailed, trapped in a government interrogation office somewhere, her face as familiar as his on the airwaves. All their privacy gone. His dark fantasies continued. He'd be co-opted by the government, forced to use his powers to hurt others. Clark stirred uneasily; so far he'd managed to avoid that last, but who knew what he'd do when his loved ones were threatened?

The worst would be the smug satisfaction on Lex's face. He'd seen it once before, back when he'd saved Lex from Morgan Edge by taking the brunt of a car crash that would have hit Lex without him. The car had crumpled around him. Lex had stared at him, first with disbelief, then with satisfaction.

Clark stirred uneasily, remembering. _"I was right", Lex said. "You aren't even human." _He thanked God that Lex had been mixed up with Lionel's schemes. Lionel had arranged electroshock therapy to cover up Lex's knowledge of his own crimes. Fortunately, it had erased Lex's memory of that day too.

Clark had been willing to sacrifice his secret to protect his friend. But that was back when Lex was his friend. Now Lex was his enemy, and Clark knew better than most what Lex was capable of. Lex had pushed the boundaries, and finally had reached the point of no return. He'd arranged a set-up for Clark, an test that would have given him proof – on video no less! - of Clark's powers. The grim irony was that, at that time, Clark had renounced his powers and was human. _If it hadn't been for Chloe, saving my butt then…who knows how it would have worked out._

The final dagger in the heart of their friendship was that Lex had put other people in danger – Clark's parents, Lana. Clark was willing to forgive Lex for a lot of things concerning himself (and had, in the past), but jeopardizing the people Clark cared about most had crossed the line. He'd gone to the mansion and punched Lex, making it brutally clear their friendship was over.

Clark began breathing faster just remembering that moment. Then Lana moved a little bit in his embrace, and he settled down.

So keeping his secret from Lex was his #1 priority. Unfortunately, his life as he knew it now rested in Lana's hands, and she'd proven herself a poor secret-keeper before. Clark thought wryly of a Benjamin Franklin aphorism: "Three can keep a secret, if two of them are dead."

Thoughts of keeping Lana at the lake for a few more days ran through his mind. He could do it. Without his aid, she was effectively a prisoner here. She had no communication with the outside world. She lacked food. She wouldn't be able to walk out to civilization, not in her condition. A nagging little voice in his mind gave him reasons to keep Lana out of circulation: _Maybe if I kept her here a couple more days…if she got more familiar with who I really am…I could tell her that I couldn't go today…_Really, all he had to do was delay, just tell Lana he wasn't quite ready to go right now, maybe tomorrow? It wouldn't be hard.

Then Clark snorted, dismissing the prospect. If he kept Lana from returning home, even if she agreed to keep his secret, it would be coercion. A forced bargain is no deal. And could he really do that to her? The person who could do that wasn't the kind of person he wanted to be.

Well, he'd made the choice to come and save Lana – there had been a good chance she actually would have died, alone up here, chilled, in the wilderness, with rescue teams days away or actually unaware of her whereabouts. And, since he'd made that choice, he would follow through till the end, without weaseling about it. He'd taken on a responsibility and he would fulfill his duty, as he saw it, to the best of his abilities. Clark wouldn't have been able to live with himself if he hadn't acted. And, as his father had reminded him numerous times, actions have consequences.

Clark sent up a silent prayer for…he didn't really know what. Somehow it was an inchoate longing to keep the quiet life he knew, to remain friends with Lana, not to let Lex find out. Then he deliberately took all his doubts and fears and metaphorically threw them down a deep well, refusing to think about them anymore.

He made himself think about their trip out tomorrow morning instead. What he'd have to do, arranging meals and water, how he could carry the pack and the best way to hold Lana. Could she walk a little bit? A little exercise would probably be good for her at this stage, although not too much. Lost in the minutiae of everyday details, Clark finally slept.

A moan jarred him out of sleep. Lana, in his arms, tensed her muscles and cried out. Clark could smell her sweat.

"Lana? Are you OK?" he asked.

She didn't answer. The body-deep muscular contraction that passed through her was answer enough. She moaned again.

Then she relaxed. "Clark", she said quietly. "I think I'm in labor."


	5. Don't Know Nothin'

It was like getting splashed in the face with a gallon of cold lake water. In labor? Oh, God. Suddenly, crazily, a scene from "Gone With The Wind" came to him. He could just see Prissy, the little black girl, saying in her high voice, "Oh Miz Scarlett, Miz Scarlett, I don't know nothin' about birthin' babies!"

Well, he didn't know nothin' about birthin' babies either, but it seemed he was about to learn.

"Clark?" Lana asked again.

"I'm here", he said. He felt useless. What to say, what to do? "How are you doing?" There, that wasn't too bad.

Lana looked frightened. "I think I'm OK so far."

_I think you were expecting a full obstetrical suite in a well-equipped hospital, with specialists standing by. Not a tiny tent up in the wilderness with a big dumb alien as your only helper. _Clark thought this, but carefully didn't say it. Heck, she was probably thinking the same thing right now. God, what would he do if she had trouble?

"What can I do?" he asked, trying to keep his voice calm. He saw Lana visibly gather her courage, take charge.

"Let's start by moving out of the tent."

Clark gazed at her in surprise.

"This is going to be messy. I'd rather do it outside on the blanket, because we can wash the blanket a lot easier."

"OK, that sounds reasonable." Clark got himself up, backed out of the tent. Lana followed. As they stood at the entrance, she hunched up as another contraction came.

"Clark, if you could get things set up…" she said tightly.

"Um, OK." He slipped into superspeed. He got a whole pile of firewood, laid it near the firepit. He took the blanket out of the tent, laid it down on a level area near the fire. He gathered some pans, took them to the lake, and filled them, heating the water to boiling as he returned to the fire. He put the washcloth in one of the pans.

Clark dropped back into regular speed as he came back to Lana. "Sit down here", he said, guiding her to the blanket. She let him accompany her. They sat down, Clark keeping an arm around her shoulders. They sat in silence for a moment; there seemed to be a fair amount of time between contractions so far.

Lana leaned against him and said, "Clark?"

"Yes?"

"Um, you said you could see through things…"

"Ah, yes, I can."

"Could you please look at the baby and tell me how she's doing?"

"OK." Clark stared over her shoulders at her abdomen, then let her go, stood up, and moved around in front of her, viewing her.

"She seems to be OK", Clark reported. "Her heartbeat seems strong and steady." He moved back to Lana. "You know…"

"What?"

"She's different now than when I first came."

"What?"

Clark was a little embarrassed he'd brought this up, given her previous reaction to the news that he'd scanned her. _I guess circumstances change things._ "Um, when I, um, checked you out, when I first came to the lake here, I mean, she was head-up. Now she's head-down. She must have moved."

Lana looked relieved. "At least it means she's not breech." She cried out as another contraction ripped through her.

Clark felt helpless. Lana unclenched her teeth and said, "Talk to me, Clark."

"What?"

"Just start talking to me. Take my mind off this."

"Um, OK." Clark thought frantically. Now, of course, his mind was a blank and he couldn't think of a thing to say. Lana looked at him in expectation.

He grabbed at the first thing that came to mind. _Sort of appropriate – a birth here; my birth – of a sort – there._ "When I first found out what, who I was", Clark began, "it really freaked me out. Then I met you and talked with you, and even though you didn't know it, you sort of talked me down from the cliff."

Lana smiled a little bit.

"And for the next seven years I thought about it every day. I think about it every day now. I really don't belong in this world. And I almost got this feeling, like I had to do something to justify my presence here. It was like I had to pay _rent _or something."

Lana raised her eyebrows.

"I mean, you and everybody else, you _belong_ here. It's your world, you all fit in. I'm the square peg in the round hole." Clark swallowed. "I thought about it a lot. Being on this world, I have abilities that other people don't have. Over time, I've come to think that it's my job to use those abilities to help people. Or my calling or something."

He glanced over at Lana. She looked bemused.

"I don't know. Maybe it's my way of getting good karma or something like that. Or paying back the good fortune that landed me here. And then it's my parents. Even though they don't have any special abilities, they're always doing stuff for other people. I mean, look at my mom – she's always donating to the food bank, and visiting shut-ins, and stuff like that. I didn't realize all this stuff till I got older myself. Now I only hope that I can live up to the standards that they set." He gestured. "So I have to do what I can."

Clark ran out of words, surprised himself at what he'd said. He realized he'd just put unformed feelings into words; he'd really never articulated all of that, even to himself before.

Lana asked challengingly, "So what _have_ you done?"

"Well, right after I found out…about myself, I ran into a guy that was the football team's scarecrow at the time of the meteor shower. He had these weird electrical powers and he was going to electrocute everyone at the dance in revenge for having been strung up. I stopped him."

Clark felt embarrassed describing it. He'd been taught all his life to keep a low profile; also, this sounded too much like bragging for his comfort. But Lana seemed interested and it was keeping her mind off her labor, so he continued.

"How'd you stop him?" Lana asked.

"He tried to run me over with a truck, but he hit a water main and that grounded him." It sounded better that way.

Lana groaned as another contraction hit her. Then she said breathlessly, "What else?"

"Well, do you remember Coach Walt and those fires?"

"Yes."

"He was trying to burn up Chloe because she had info about the cheating scandal. I helped stop that."

"Why do I think this involved you walking through fire?" Lana said, almost teasingly.

"It wasn't like that at all!" Clark protested, inwardly thinking, _It was like that._

"Tell me more", she said.

And he did. As that long night passed, as the stars above wheeled around, as her labor pains came closer and closer together, he talked about the times he'd saved her, or Chloe, or Pete, or his parents, or other people. He didn't talk about Lex; that was too close to the bone. Lana talked back when she could, when she was not overcome by a contraction. As Clark talked, he massaged her back, or walked with her, or wiped away her sweat, or just held her closely. The contractions came closer and closer together as time passed.

She stopped talking back to him; now she was just cursing Lex, cursing him, and cursing men in general. The labor pains were coming fast and furious now. Her water had broken some time before. Lana had asked him to check her dilation several times over the past two hours; trying to ignore his embarrassment and downright queasiness, he'd done so. He didn't know much about it but guesstimated (and hoped) she was dilated enough.

Clark held her hand. "I think it's time to push now, Lana", he said, trying to put an encouraging note in his voice. Her lank hair trailed down her sweat-soaked face. She squeezed his hand, hard – if he'd been human, he'd be in serious pain right now.

Lana groaned heavily and strained. Clark X-rayed the baby again – he'd been doing it on and off all night at Lana's request, giving reports. The baby still seemed OK, having a strong heartbeat, although pretty squeezed in the pelvic canal.

Lana gave another tremendous push and screamed. The baby's head crowned; Clark said, "Come on!" Lana pushed again and the head popped out. She panted for a moment, then strained and screamed again. The shoulders passed.

After that, it was downhill all the way, metaphorically speaking. The baby came out. Clark took the blood-smeared body in his arms, checking her frantically. Then he gave a huge sigh of relief as she opened her mouth and gave a loud cry. Clark, X-raying her, could see her tiny lungs inflate, her circulation change from bypassing-the-lungs-and-getting-oxygen-from-the-placenta to the normal independently-breathing-air pathway. He stared at her in wonder, amazed at her tiny perfection.

Lana gave a small groan that brought Clark's attention back to her. She sat panting on the blanket, messy with birthing fluids and blood, a fecund smell in the air. Clark put the baby in her arms. "You have a baby girl", he said unnecessarily.

Lana held the baby close. She offered a breast and the infant latched on, instinctively sucking. Clark, looking around, realized he'd forgotten to get something to tie off the umbilical cord. He was about to pull out one of his shoelaces when he got an idea. He pulled out a hair and tied the cord with that. Then he used his heat vision to sever the cord. The baby's crying was music to his ears.

"You did good", he said to Lana gently. She looked up at him, gave a weak smile.

Clark looked back at her, at a loss. _What to do now? _ Then he checked the surroundings and her. "Let's get you and her cleaned up now", he said in a deliberately cheerful tone.

He carried her to the lakeshore, the baby still nursing. Using super-speed, he carried pan after pan of water from the lake, heating it up and pouring it over her. The effect was that of a hot shower. Clark carefully avoided pouring water on the newborn; he dropped out of super-speed and handed Lana the washcloth. Together, they cleaned the new baby, and finished Lana's bath.

He sped to the clothesline, grabbed some of her clothes, and brought them to her, holding the baby as she dressed. The baby cried, not wanting to lose Lana's milk. Clark handed the baby back to Lana, then gently picked her up and carried her back to the tent.

They both sat in the tent, looking intently at this new soul in their midst. She had a scattering of dark hair. Clark put hand gently on her head; he felt a softness. Startled, he x-rayed the baby's skull. _Oh. It's an open fontanelle. _The hole where the various plates of the skull met wouldn't close till later on in life. Even without X-ray vision, Clark could see bluish blood vessels under the child's translucent skin. The baby's fists pressed into Lana's breast, gently pushing to encourage milk letdown.

"What are you going to name her?" Clark asked softly.

"I've thought about that a lot", Lana replied. "I think I want to call her Laura, after my mother."

Clark nodded. It seemed right.

They sat together, not speaking as Laura nursed. It wasn't long before she got her fill and stopped suckling; Lana put the baby on her shoulder and patted her. The infant fell asleep in her mother's arms. Lana looked tired too; her eyes closed. Despite the approaching dawn, she lay down and stretched out on the sleeping bag, carefully placing the baby next to her.

"I need to sleep now, Clark", she said.

Clark could tell when she dropped off into sleep – pretty much right away. He thought about going out, getting more water, preparing a meal – then he considered that he'd been up all night too. He looked down at Laura, again amazed at her existence, marveling at her softness, her tiny fingernails on a tiny hand. He put his own hand up to Laura's, smiling at the size disparity. He stretched out next to Lana, the baby between them. Listening to the two heartbeats was different now. Laura had her own beat, separate from her mother, no longer muffled. Comforted by the dual steady rhythm, Clark slept.

He woke to a strange snuffling noise outside the tent. Lana woke up too, reflexively reaching for her child, remaining tense on the sleeping bag.

"What is it?" she whispered.

Laura awoke and began crying. The noise stopped for a moment, then moved closer. Clark and Lana looked at each other in the tent, both nervous.

"I'll go check it out", Clark said. He got up and crawled out the tent entrance. _Oh sh!t._ He was looking a brown bear straight in the eye.


	6. Wilderness Predator

Clark stood in front of the tent, well within reach of the bear. The bear reared up in surprise and gave a growl. _Even if I wasn't born on Earth, that growl sure pushed some instinctive buttons. _It was a growl that got full attention.

Clark looked up….and up. The bear stretched eight feet tall for sure, maybe more. Clark gave a quick glance at the campsite. The birthing blanket was wadded up and torn; Clark's pack pawed open; one meal had been eaten. Laura's cry must have interrupted the bear before it could finish the meals. _All the blood and stuff from the birthing must have attracted it. It's looking for other things to eat now. _

Clark's attention came back to the bear when it growled again. From the bear's point of view, he wasn't following the plan – when a bear growled, it expected you to get out of the way. Clark stubbornly held his ground in front of the tent. With speed surprising in such a big animal, the bear slapped him in the face with its broad paw. Clark's head snapped back despite his strength – there was a lot of momentum in a bear slap.

Clark remembered a "True Wilderness Tale" his father had read him once, after they'd been on one of their fishing trips in his boyhood. A hunter in Alaska had had the unfortunate experience of running into a bear and getting his face slapped. Unlike Clark, the hunter wasn't Kryptonian. The bear slap slashed one side of his face to ribbons, broke his jaw, knocked one eye out of its socket, and ripped the scalp off his head. Somehow, the hunter, who was alone in the wilderness, didn't die right then. He managed to make it back to his canoe and float back to a place where he could get help.

Clark narrowed his eyes and stared the bear right in the face, a challenge. The bear gave a louder growl. Clark followed up by alternately heat-visioning the bear's feet, and using his enhanced breath to blow at the bear. It rocked backward from the force of Clark's breath, then dropped to all fours and took a few steps backward. Clark didn't want to attack it outright; he figured that might make the bear angry. But if he could get it to leave on its own volition…

Clark got the bear backed up to near the firepit. It looked at Clark's backpack; it wanted to eat those meals. Clark kept up the heat and the breath, changing his angle to move the bear farther away from the backpack. Behind him, he heard a gasp. Based on the breath sounds, Lana had poked her head out of the tent and had seen what he was dealing with.

Clark checked distances. _Only a little farther away…_once he got the bear far enough away from their campsite, he planned on knocking it out by hitting it on the head, then he would pick it up and carry it miles away. He smiled, feeling confident, mentally rehearsing his plan.

Then, suddenly, disaster. Clark's heat vision and super-breath stopped working. He felt the familiar meteor rock nausea. Looking around quickly, he saw the lead-sealed kryptonite cylinder on the ground. The bear had spread all sorts of things around as it rifled their campsite; the cylinder was only one of the bits of trash spread around. Disastrously for Clark, the bear had either bitten or clawed at the lead. However it happened, the kryptonite was no longer sealed safely behind lead – it was out, and its malign influence on Clark was no longer abated.

The bear gave a small _whuff_, then stopped retreating. It stared Clark in the face; Clark tried not to fall over, but the weakness and nausea were growing.

"Lana", Clark called out weakly. She looked up as she heard her name. The bear advanced toward Clark. With his last bit of swiftly-vanishing strength, Clark gritted his teeth, fell down near the kryptonite, grabbed it (holding onto the lead as much as he could), and threw it toward Lana, screaming with pain as the green rock burned his hand.

To his dismay, the meteor fragment landed only a short distance away; he was weaker than he thought. Clark was still within the radius of its evil effects. The bear, seeing its tormenter incapacitated, moved toward Clark. It stood over him. At the last minute Clark put his left arm up to protect his face. The bear grabbed his arm in its mouth and bit down.

"Aaaah!" Clark screamed. Blood pooled in the sand. The bear let go, then took another bite. Clark tried to move his arm; it didn't seem to want to work right anymore. He looked at it – the bear's teeth had shredded the muscles above and below the elbow. Clark rolled up into a ball, crying out in pain. The bear pawed at him, making a trail of four lacerations down his back. More blood pooled.

* * *

Lana poked her head out the tent door. She gasped – that was one big bear. Clark was doing _something_ because the bear was backing away from him. Lana felt amazement once again, that Clark could face a bear with impunity. She looked at him, mentally cheering him on.

Laura gave a tiny cry, and Lana looked back at her baby in the tent. Lana went to go back in the tent to comfort her infant, then looked at Clark in concern. He seemed shaky; the bear had stopped retreating. As Lana looked on in concern, Clark fell down. He grabbed something, wincing, and threw it in her general direction.

_What's going on?_ Things seemed to be going wrong now. Then Clark screamed. Lana looked on in horror as she saw the bear bite his arm. Horror coursed through her as she saw him bleed.

"It must be the meteor rock", she realized. Clark hadn't made a big deal about it, but during her long labor he'd told her enough about the saves he'd made to make her understand that he was mostly invulnerable. Except, of course, when meteor rock was involved. He'd been fairly closemouthed about that too, but after seeing its effect on him earlier, she'd put two and two together.

_What to do? _ Lana looked at Clark struggling in the bear's grasp. She turned back and looked at her newborn daughter in the tent. The baby Laura gave a louder cry.

* * *

Clark stayed curled into a fetal position as the bear pawed at his back again. One claw caught on his shirt collar; the bear ripped through the shirt, hardly noticing it. Another set of claw marks opened Clark's skin. The bear reached out again; this time it pawed at Clark's head, ripping his scalp. Blood flowed onto Clark's face, joining the blood on his back and arm.

Worse than that was the meteor rock sickness; it was pain and burning and nausea and torture all at once. Clark realized he was very likely to die here; he was losing a significant amount of blood. _If this is it…I'm going to do all I can._

* * *

Lana gathered her courage. She crept out of the tent, closer to the horrific scene that was Clark Kent being mauled by a bear. The lead cylinder was hard to find; its dull color blended in with the soil. Lana looked around frantically; then a glint of sunlight reflected green. She ran to the spot, found the meteor rock. She picked it up, then ran as far away from Clark and the bear as she could. Her sore muscles protested. _I'm running like an arthritic ninety-year old with rickets_.

Lana looked back at the tent as she passed it by, carrying the kryptonite. _God, I hope this works. _What it the bear came to get Laura? She didn't know how far away she had to get from Clark and how long it would take him to regain his powers. _Could_ he regain his powers? He'd lost so much blood….

She didn't want to think about what she would do without him. Strangely enough, in the past two days, she'd come to know him better than she ever had before. She'd seen who Clark really was. It frightened her at first. He was so alien…the things he could do…Then she'd seen that he was, really, the same man she'd loved. He just came from another planet. _And his blood's red - just like a human's. _

Lana took the meteor rock fragment and threw it as far away as she possibly could.

* * *

Clark reached a moment of resolution. Fighting off the pain and weakness, he rolled away from the bear and rose to his knees. The bear walked almost lazily over to Clark, knowing he was helpless. Clark felt less nauseated now, although still weak. He came to a tree, hauled himself up to a standing position. The bear advanced on all fours. _I'm going to go down fighting. _ Clark leaned against the tree, and picked up his mauled arm with his good hand. Fists clenched together, he brought them down with all his strength on the bear's skull.

Lana gasped in amazement as Clark's fists crushed the bear's skull, sending splashes of blood and brain matter all around. The bear gave a sigh, and collapsed, a thousand pounds of predator slipping bonelessly to the ground. Clark looked at it in surprise, and cast one glance at Lana.

"Lana", he breathed out. He tried to stand straighter against the tree. Then Clark Kent fell to the ground unconscious.

* * *

"Clark!" Lana screamed. She ran to him. Oh God. He was so torn up. His arm muscles were hanging. Lana almost threw up when she saw his bones underneath the shredded hamburger that had been his left arm. Blood covered his head from the scalp wound. He lay on his face; Lana could see the deep gouges in his back, oozing blood.

"Clark! Clark! Don't die on me!" Lana pleaded. She rolled him over so that his face wasn't in the dirt. _Oh my God, what to do?_ She ran and picked up Clark's torn-up shirt. She took the mess of skin and muscle that had been his arm and tried to put it back in place around the bone. Then she bound it with the rags of his shirt. The shirt darkened with blood immediately. _I don't have anything for stitches…we don't have any antibiotics or pain medicine…_

Lana looked at his other wounds; while horrific, none were bleeding seriously. She ran to the campsite, picked up some scattered clothing, and put pressure on Clark's wounds that she could reach. The blood seemed to slow down its oozing.

Then she dithered indecisively for a moment. Not sure what to do at first, Lana looked around, made a decision. She took two pans from the mess kit and ran to the lake. She put one pan on the embers of the fire. With the other pan, and the washcloth and soap she began washing Clark's wounds. She started with his face, gently sponging away the blood. The water in the pan turned red as she dipped the washcloth in.

Lana rolled Clark to one side to get at the gouges on his back. Once there, she stared at Clark's back in puzzlement. There was plenty of blood, but the deep oozy wounds she'd seen now were thin red lines. Thunderstruck, Lana examined Clark's head more closely. The loose flap of scalp was loose no longer, and the head bleeding had stopped. She put Clark on his back again, worked up her courage to remove the bloody bandages on his arm.

Under the smeared blood, she could see the grave wounds mending themselves. The tissue joined; the skin grew over; lacerations closed. She wiped some of the blood away and gasped in amazement as she saw the deep wound become a thin red line; that in turn became unmarked, normal-looking skin. Lana backed away, breathing heavily. Seeing this scared her all over again. Clark was an alien and here he was showing it.

Lana gathered herself, came back to Clark and continued washing his wounds, but with less urgency. She got fresh water from the lake and swapped that pan for the pan on the fire. She rinsed the blood from Clark's hair. She looked at his body as she washed his torso; he was healed now. Her hands slowed. She remembered loving Clark; running her hands over his body, touching him, feeling him, reveling in his body.

A rising wail from Laura in the tent broke Lana from her reverie. She stood up, looked down at Clark, still unconscious. She set down the soap and water, and went to the tent to get the baby. She carried Laura back with her. She nursed Laura sitting on the ground next to Clark.

Several hours passed. Clark remained unconscious. Lana looked around the campsite, strewn with debris. She set the sleeping Laura next to Clark. She went to the campsite and set things back in order. As the twilight approached, she washed out the pans and found a dehydrated meal that the bear hadn't gotten. She put more wood on the fire, and boiled some water for the meal. Lana ate, but her worry over Clark made the meal tasteless. Again, she sat next to Clark, holding his hand. She drifted into a light sleep.

With a jerk, she woke up. Clark had squeezed her hand lightly.

"Clark?" she asked quietly.

"Lana?" he said, voice weak and thready.

"I'm here", she said, raising his hand and squeezing it reassuringly. "You saved us."

Clark gave a sigh. A tiny smile ghosted at his lips. "You saved me", he whispered.

_What? Oh, he must mean moving the meteor rock away. _"I'm sorry I didn't throw it away right at the beginning", Lana said. Only now was she realizing the full magnitude of her error, her insistence on keeping the meteor rock close by.

"It's OK", Clark said weakly. "You got it away just in time." He lay in silence for a moment. "Can you get me some water, please?"

Lana hurried and got a panful of water from the lake. Clark reached for it eagerly.

"Don't you want to boil it?" asked Lana.

"I don't have the energy right now", Clark replied hoarsely. Lana set down the pan, grabbed him by his armpits, and tried to help him sit up. He was heavy. She wouldn't have been able to do it if he hadn't helped her as best he could. Lana held the pan to his mouth; he swallowed in big greedy gulps. As he drank, Lana could see color returning to his face, the awful paleness receding.

Laura, woken by the movement, began crying. Lana handed Clark the half-empty pan – he could hold it now. She went to pick up Laura.

"Is she OK?" Clark asked anxiously. His voice sounded stronger.

"She's fine." Lana brought the baby near him. He looked at Laura and smiled.

"Clark! Don't try and get up yet!" Lana said, as Clark wobbled in place. "You have to have something to eat!"

"I'm saving the meals for you---" he interjected automatically.

"You can have _one._ You've got to eat something!" she retorted.

"But the food situation—"

"Don't worry about that now." Lana directed his attention to the dead bear. "I hear that bear makes pretty good eating."

Clark's eyes widened as he saw the bear. He'd only had eyes for Lana and Laura so far. He swallowed and said, "I guess you moved away the meteor rock just in time."

Lana said nothing, merely handed him Laura to hold while she got some water from the lake to fix a meal for him. A matter of a few minutes sufficed to rehydrate another meal.

As Clark vigorously spooned in his meal, he could feel his strength returning. He was hungry. _I could eat four more of these_, he thought, looking at his plate. Then he looked over at Lana. She sat tiredly on the ground, nursing Laura again. He looked closer; there was blood where she had been sitting before, and it wasn't his own blood.

_She just had a baby! _ Clark reminded himself, ashamed that he had had Lana doing everything for him when she was weak herself. He focused his X-ray vision, examining her for bleeding, for complications.

"Are you feeling all right?" he asked Lana roughly. She looked back at him, realizing it wasn't just a polite social question.

"I'm a little tired and I'm getting some bad cramping", she replied.

"Can we go back to the tent?" Clark asked her. He finished the last few bites of his meal, set down the plate, and stood up. After some initial wobbliness, he regained his balance. "Come with me."

He extended his hand; Lana took it, and he helped her up. Together they walked back to the tent.

"Can I get you some more water?" he asked. "I think I'm up to it now."

Lana gave him a questioning look, then nodded. "But you don't have to hurry."

"I'll take you up on that", Clark said, still feeling a little weak. He walked at normal human speed to the lake to scoop up a panful of water. Once he got it back to Lana, he did boil it with his heat vision, though, and then cooled it down. Using the heat vision left him feeling weaker.

"Why don't you go to bed?" he asked Lana. "You've had a rough day."

"Are you coming to bed?" she asked him in return.

"I'm going to take care of that bear first."

Lana raised her eyebrows.

"I've got to do something before it attracts other predators", Clark explained. "And unless you want to use your Swiss Army knife…"

Lana laughed at the thought, a almost-hysterical sound, now that she could stop to think about what had happened, the nearness of their escapes. "No, you go ahead."

Clark held the baby while she crawled in the tent, giving Laura back once Lana got settled. He could hear Lana slipping into slumber almost right away.

Later, after the messy, bloody job that was butchering the bear, Clark realized one thing. After a hard day's work and almost dying, bear steaks _did _make good eating.


	7. A Day In Camp

Lana awoke to the mouth-watering smell of cooking meat. Gathering up Laura, she exited the tent and came to the fire. Clark had a large piece of meat on the cooking rack over the fire, and based on the browning of the top side, he was also augmenting the fire with his heat vision.

"Are you up for some bear?" he asked. Lana thought that he looked a lot better this morning, back to his normal self.

"I don't know…" Lana had never thought about eating wild game before. But that was before she'd been stuck in the wilderness for days, eating dehydrated camp meals. Saliva flooded her mouth at the savory smell.

"Let me just make sure it's well-cooked", Clark said. Curious, Lana focused on his eyes. It was hard to tell in the bright morning sunlight, but she thought she saw them turn orange-red for a short time. She moved her hand near the area between his eyes and the cooking meat; the air was warm. Clark blinked and the redness disappeared.

"Be careful", he said. "I don't want to burn you."

Lana ignored the implied rebuke. "You know, you're pretty handy to have around, Clark Kent", she said in a teasing voice.

Clark gave an awkward smile. Laura's wail cut off his reply. They both looked at the baby.

"Let me take care of her", Clark said.

"Are you sure? I think she needs changing", Lana said with a grimace.

"You just sit here and have some breakfast." With a blur and a whoosh, he stood in front of her, now holding her Swiss Army knife and his camp fork. He lifted the plate containing the cooked steak, setting it on a convenient tree stump nearby. "Here you go", Clark said as he took Laura from her arms.

The scent of the cooked steak was downright Pavlovian. Lana gave one look at Laura, wiggling in Clark's arms, Clark giving the baby a foolish smile. Then Lana took the silverware and dug in.

Clark held the baby close. He checked Laura's makeshift diaper – she did need changing. Turning her in his arms so that she was cradled against his chest, he sped down to the lakefront. He swished out Laura's diaper and heated some water to wash her. She cried loudly at the washing.

"There, there", Clark found himself saying inanely. _I don't know what to say to babies. _He felt more out of place than usual. Then he mentally kicked himself when he realized he'd forgotten a towel to wipe Laura dry. With a sigh, he held the wet baby close to him again and sped back to the campsite. Somehow he managed to get Laura dried off, and even back into another makeshift diaper which he'd made by tearing up one of Lana's maternity outfits.

It was too bad she'd gone in for a lot of synthetics; only a few outfits were mostly cotton. Fortunately one was a wide-cut maternity nightgown. That had yielded quite a few diapers. They'd used another outfit to cover the baby. Lana had said, "You know, _besides_ the complete set of Dr. Seuss books, Chloe gave me three really nice receiving blankets _and_ two cases of disposable diapers at the shower. Plus some onesies." She looked at the makeshift wrappings and laughed ruefully.

Clark walked around the campsite, holding Laura, enjoying the northern summer sun. He could feel the warmth of Laura's tiny body, feel her birdlike heartbeat. Her crying trailed off as she nuzzled up to his chest. Clark supported her head with one hand; her skull fit into his palm. He found himself crooning in a wordless monotone to her. He met her eyes and smiled; he saw her eyes come into startled focus. He smiled again, then gave a loud laugh. The corners of Laura's mouth quirked up – was she trying to smile too?

Clark headed back to the fire. Lana had polished off most of the decent-sized steak. He sat down and wordlessly handed Laura to her. Lana pulled up her shirt and put the baby to her breast.

"Um, are you doing OK, um, ah, with the nursing?" Clark asked awkwardly. As far as he was concerned, this was more embarrassing than talking about sex.

"Well, really I don't know much about it either", Lana replied. "I was worried I wasn't going to have enough milk but so far she seems to be doing OK, Clark." She adjusted the baby's position. "I still think we should get her home as soon as we can."

Clark sighed. "I agree with you. It's just that I don't think today is a good day. I'm mostly recovering, but I'm still not quite myself." His expression turned inward for a moment. "And I don't think you're quite ready either."

"I'm still bleeding, but only a little bit", Lana said, matter-of-factly. "I'm pretty sore still, though." Clark looked away. Lana noted his blush. "You're not comfortable with all this girl talk, are you?"

"Well, you know, when they had showers – baby _or_ wedding - it was always a…a female thing…me and my dad never got invited." Clark grinned.

"Alien in more ways than one!" Lana said, giving him a smile to let him know it was in fun. "Do you remember that time Chloe was ragging on you and she said, 'Men are from Mars, women are from Venus, but you, Clark are from some planet in a faraway galaxy!'"

Clark returned an unsure smile. "Little did she know that truer words were never spoken", he said sardonically. He didn't like being teased but he was glad that Lana felt comfortable enough to joke with him about it.

"God, here I am stuck in the wilderness with someone who knows even less about babies than I do!" she continued in mock exasperation.

"I did read a medical textbook once", Clark said apologetically.

"Ah, but lately?" Lana asked.

"No, years and years ago." Clark didn't want to mention his exceptional memory; he could visualize the pages of the book in front of him this very minute.

"Well, I've been reading those _What to Expect When You're Expecting_ series, and based on what I've read, I think we're doing OK so far." They both looked at the baby, who cried for a moment when Lana switched her to the other breast.

"Clark?" Lana asked quietly.

"What?"

"I never thanked you for saving my life. I mean, you almost died fighting that bear." A pause. "I just want to say thank you."

Clark said nothing for a moment, unsure how to respond. He'd often dreamed of Lana saying those words, hoping for the day when he'd use his powers in front of her and she'd accept him. Somehow the reality was different than he'd imagined in his fantasies.

"It's all right", he said roughly. He got up, paced, changed the subject.

"I got the bear butchered up", he said. "I was able to freeze the larger pieces." _With my breath,_ were the unspoken words. "Some of the rest I cut up into small pieces and made bear jerky. That'll be good for travel rations."

"What about the skin?" Lana asked curiously.

"I dumped the skin and the viscera in the forest", Clark pointed off in a direction opposite to that of where Lana had thrown the kryptonite. "It's kind of a waste, I know, but I don't know anything about tanning hides."

"That's too bad. I figured you could put the bearskin rug in your barn loft", Lana said teasingly.

Clark laughed. "Yeah, that would sure add to the décor…it would be quite a conversation piece."

"The only trouble is, you don't want that kind of conversation, like _where'd you get a bearskin rug?_, do you Clark?" Lana needled him.

"That's the kind of stuff that might blow my cover", Clark said, the fun gone from his voice as he recalled his nightmares. Lana looked at his unsmiling face and dropped the topic.

"What about getting back home?" she asked.

"Well, I think we shouldn't try to go today. You're still…" he gestured awkwardly at her stomach, somehow including Laura in the gesture.

"Yes."

"And I'm still not totally myself. So let's get all set today, and we'll leave tomorrow morning."

"OK", Lana agreed. It sounded reasonable to her.

Clark got up, began pacing. "Here's the plan: I'll pack up everything I can in the backpack."

"One thing, there's fewer dehydrated meals to carry", Lana said ruefully.

"I'll carry some bear meat too." Clark took another few steps. "Then you can carry Laura, and I can carry you in my arms." Unconsciously lengthening his stride, Clark said, "Even if I'm not running at full speed, I bet I can make fifty or sixty miles in a day." He stopped, sat down again.

"We'll have to make a lot of stops to feed the baby and change her."

Clark shrugged his shoulders. "No problem." He looked at Laura, contentedly nursing. "I just hurtled through the forest on the way here and I wasn't paying a lot of attention to the roads." He frowned. "Now I wish I really had brought my GPS and maps."

"Ah, the non-existent GPS!" Lana needled him. Clark returned a wry smile.

"Anyway, I'll do my best", Clark said.

Lana spoke in a confident tone. "You'll get us home safely, Clark", she said.

* * *

They spent the remainder of the day doing some housekeeping chores. Clark took the finest fishing hook, and using a combination of heat vision and his hand strength, straightened it and smoothed down the barb. Then he threaded the round "eye" of the hook with some fishing line, and squeezed it down to a long, thin oval eye.

Meanwhile, Lana had been using the scissors attachment on her Swiss Army knife to cut up another one of her maternity outfits. Using the fishing-hook "needle", she sewed a crude sling-type carrier for Laura. It was no great shakes, but at least it would allow Lana to have her hands free some of the time while carrying the baby.

Clark had five big meals of bear steak that day. He also scouted around the lake and forest, looking for possible edible plants. He brought in some cattails – "I read somewhere that the entire plant is edible" – he told Lana, and hit the jackpot – a patch of blueberries deep in the forest. Manfully, he refrained from eating the whole patch; he got a pan, picked the whole patch in super-speed, and brought it back to Lana to share.

He cooked another piece of bear for her; she ate it, although with less appetite than she'd had for the steak this morning. They didn't really know how to prepare the cattails; they ended up cutting them up into small bits, boiling them with a little water, and putting some bear meat in with them. It made a sort of mushy soup, although the taste was…unique.

The blueberries, reserved for dessert, had a savor not found in store-bought fruit. They ate each tiny berry separately, the flavor exploding on their tongues. It cut the greasy taste of bear. They looked at each other and laughed – their teeth and tongues were purple.

All through the day they took care of Laura, holding her, rocking her, talking to her. Lana nursed her frequently; she was worried that she wasn't producing enough milk for the baby. Fortunately, Laura seemed to have a strong suckling reflex, and seemed to be getting enough based on her napping after feeding.

Clark was amazed at how many diapers a small baby could use in a day. The small pack of disinfectant wipes quickly emptied. Clark dutifully took each dirty diaper to the lake, rinsed it out, and washed it. He was glad he'd brought a large bar of soap – he took minuscule amounts and used his super-speed to lather up. Drying diapers festooned the clothesline.

Periodically he'd go back and check on the large chunks of bear he'd hung from a tree branch. The outsides were thawing a little bit, but he'd dropped the temperature of the meat so low that the majority remained in deep-freeze. He gave the meat another chilling breath each time.

Lana took several long naps, exhausted by the events of the past few days. Clark joined her for one of the naps, figuring he'd done everything he could do right now. And he still felt a little weak from the bear attack. The baby woke them up every few hours, demanding to be nursed or burped or changed or washed. Lana dealt with her the first few times; then, the next time, Clark said, "I'll take care of her."

Lana didn't even bother giving him an argument. "Fine", she said, giving him Laura to hold, then falling back on the sleeping bag and closing her eyes. Clark smiled. _She must be pretty tired._

Clark exited the tent. He stood up outside in the sunshine, holding Laura. _I hope she doesn't want to eat. _He checked her diaper – yes, it was dirty again. He got the washcloth and one of the drying diapers off the clothesline, and carried Laura to the lake. There, he gently cleaned her, warming the water. He also warmed her new diaper for her. They didn't have safety pins; Clark had bent some more fishhooks into a crude substitute. The diapers were loose and unfortunately tended to leak. They'd already learned, when Laura got that expression on her face, take her outside _right away_.

Laura stopped fussing when she was warm, clean, and dry. Clark held her closely, sitting on a log, looking out at the lake. The setting sun behind him colored the lake surface with reddish streaks. Laura wiggled a little in her wrappings, then gave a small mew and settled down quietly. Clark shifted her in his arms, putting her head up to his shoulder. She gave a tiny sigh and fell asleep.

Clark sat there for an hour, holding the sleeping baby, gazing out at the lake. She seemed content in his hands, occasionally making small movements in her sleep. He supported Laura's head in his palm.

Clark thought of might-have-beens, of things now forever out of his grasp. _I wonder if this is the closest I'll ever get to having children of my own._ A bitter smile tinged his lips. He'd thought about that a lot since he regained his powers. Then he breathed in sharply as an idea came to him. _Could he actually be Laura's father?_ He did the math – it was possible. Excitement coursed through him at the possibility. How to prove it, though? The usual method was DNA testing but that wouldn't be possible for him. It would have to be a diagnosis of exclusion – if Lex's DNA didn't support his fatherhood, then it must be Clark. His mind was awhirl with thoughts. _Maybe Chloe could help somehow…._

As twilight fell, Clark got up, moved back to the campsite. He gently put the sleeping baby back in the tent next to her mother. Lana woke; Clark said, "Dinner in an hour?" She nodded sleepily.

He puttered around the campsite, not bothering to use his heat vision, boiling water the normal way over the fire. He made some more cattail-and-bear soup; he grilled another steak; he re-hydrated another camp meal. Clark went to the tent, peeked in; Lana was awake but the baby still slept.

"Dinner's ready", Clark told Lana.

Lana looked uncertainly at the baby.

"You can leave her there and I'll keep my eyes and ears open", Clark promised. Lana looked dubious for a moment, then processed what he'd said. Relief crossed her face.

"OK", she said, and got out of the tent.

Clark served her the rehydrated meal and some soup. He finished off the steak and the rest of the soup. Mercifully, Laura slept through most of the dinner. Clark heard her cry; he quickly finished off his steak, then super-sped to the tent to get her. Laura kept on crying when he picked her up.

Clark brought the baby back to Lana. "I think she's hungry", he said. Laura proved him right by latching onto the nipple ferociously. "Ow!" Lana cried.

"What?" Clark asked.

"I think I'm getting chapped nipples", Lana said.

Clark blushed a deep red. _Too much information - don't want to think about that!_ Then he remembered the cows at home – they'd used Bag Balm when the cows had the same problem. He carefully didn't mention _that _to Lana. He had an idea. "I think you can use bear grease."

Lana looked at him in surprise, then with agreement. "But how?"

"I'm not sure." Clark began pacing again, as he tended to do when he had an idea. "I think I have to cook it down and strain off the top."

"Can you do that?"

"I think so." Clark stuck his finger on the inside of the pan where he'd cooked the soup; as he'd hoped, a tiny layer of grease coated the pan. "In fact, here's some left over." He came over to her, put his finger on her wrist, showing her the moisturizer. "You can use that when Laura's done."

When that time came, Clark felt uncomfortable. He left Lana to moisturize herself and he jogged back to where the bear chunks hung. Fortunately, the bear had quite a bit of fat already for the season, and when Clark had butchered it out, he'd left fat on the outside of the meat, figuring it would delay the thawing. Clark ripped off a small chunk of fat and brought it back to the campsite.

It was easier than he'd thought. Heat vision made quick work of boiling the fat. Clark looked around for something to put it into; he found a compact from Lana's toiletry case. Unfortunately, the makeup inside had been lost in the lake, but the mirror was OK, and the loss of the makeup left a nice little basin to collect the grease. Clark gently poured it into the compact, using his hand to guide the flow of hot fat, cooling it slightly as he poured.

Lana looked on in interest, stirring a little when he stuck his hand into the boiling grease, then subsiding as she realized it wouldn't hurt him. Clark presented her with the compact. "For your use, Madame", he said in his most egregious faux-French accent.

"Thank you, M'sieur", she replied in the same tone.

Clark made quick work of the clean-up, super-speeding through the washing. He joined Lana at the campfire, putting on a few more logs as he passed by. Together they sat, watching sparks fly up into the darkening sky. Twilight darkened into full night; the stars came out.

"You can see so many more stars here than in Metropolis", Lana marveled, breaking their silence.

"I know. The air's a lot cleaner here", Clark said quietly. "There's less light pollution too."

Lana snuggled in closer to him, again enjoying the warmth he exuded. She thought about asking, _Where is the star you came from, Clark?_ But in the end she didn't.


	8. They Set Out

Laura woke up several times during the night; Lana took care of the feeding and burping, Clark the diaper-changing. Lana hadn't argued when he reasoned that he could see in lower light levels than she could, and also that he could heat up the wash water. "I won't trip on the way to the lake, and she'll cry less with warm water."

As dawn came, Clark nudged Lana. She was already awake. "Ready to go?" he asked.

"Breakfast first?" she asked hopefully.

"I meant, _after_ breakfast", Clark said. He got out of the tent. By the time Lana came back from the latrine, feeling ratty and disgustingly dirty, Clark had prepared breakfast, obviously using his super-speed. Hot food and tea waited for her. _I'm getting a little tired of bear by now_, she thought, but kept quiet. Bear was better than nothing, and they only had a few camp meals left.

Clark polished off huge portions, as usual. They brushed their teeth. Then he waited patiently while she nursed Laura and burped her. He dealt with the inevitable diaper mess, and washed Laura. Then he went with them down to the lake, and did the heat-vision-and-super-speed thing to give her a hot shower. Lana moaned in ecstasy as she washed her hair. She dried off and changed into a clean outfit.

She held Laura while Clark went to the lake and washed himself, a little miffed that he washed in super-speed. He had washed and dried his jeans the night before. The bear had ripped off his blue t-shirt; yesterday he'd gone around shirtless, but today he put on the shirt from the sweatsuit.

Clark came to her as she sat on the log near their fire. "Are you ready?" he asked her.

Lana looked around at the campsite. The tent was still set up, their bedding rumpled inside. The pans and dishes of the mess kit sat by the fire, dirty from breakfast. Drying diapers hung on the clothesline, along with some of their clothes they'd washed. Clark's backpack, fortunately not too damaged by the bear attack, stood empty, propped against a tree.

"Are _you_ ready?" she asked dubiously. Clark just smiled.

A blur, a whoosh. Lana looked around. The tent was gone. The collapsible cooking rack and the dishes were gone. The clothesline and diapers and clothes were missing. Aside from the fire, there was no evidence humans had been in this clearing. Clark hoisted his full backpack on one shoulder. Somehow he'd also managed to get a big chunk of frozen bear meat and slung this over his other shoulder.

"You were saying?" he asked innocently. He dropped Laura's carrier-sling at her feet.

"Oh." That was all Lana could say. It still disconcerted her, seeing the alien part of Clark, seeing him use his alien powers. She busied herself putting Laura in the carrier.

"If you're ready…" Clark asked her. Lana nodded, and held the baby close to her. Clark reached out, set one arm behind her knees, one arm around her back. Easily, he lifted her up, holding her across his body; she faced his right side. She put one arm around his neck, the other holding Laura, who had fallen asleep in her carrier. It didn't feel too uncomfortable.

"All set?" Clark asked her.

"Yes", she said, then cleared her throat and spoke louder. "Yes."

Clark began walking, then slipped into a run. It seemed fast to Lana, but she knew it was a snail's pace to Clark. Whatever, it was enough so that they weren't running into trees or getting slapped by branches. She leaned against Clark, her head on his chest, hearing his heartbeat. Despite his running, his heart didn't speed up; it continued its steady, reassuring beat.

"Are you OK?" Clark asked her after a few minutes.

"Fine."

Clark continued running through the seemingly endless forest. Lulled by the monotony, feeling safe in his arms, Lana drifted off into a light sleep.

She awoke with a jerk some time later, when Clark set her down.

"Are you OK?" she asked him in turn.

"I'm fine, but I think it might be time to feed Laura and change her", he said. "And I'd like you to change sides."

"OK."

They took care of Laura. Clark had noticed a stream and stopped by it so they could wash.

"Hungry?" Clark asked Lana.

"No. You cooked me a big breakfast", she replied.

"OK. Let's go." Clark swung her up into his arms again, this time having Lana facing his left. He began running again.

The day continued like that, Clark running for one or two hours, then stopping to allow Lana to stretch her legs and take care of the baby. He'd switch the way he held Lana each time. Despite holding her, the baby, the backpack with all their gear, and a hundred-pound chunk of bear meat, he didn't seem tired at all. Clark was more worried about Lana becoming stiff and sore. As the day went on, this became an accurate prediction. Lana kept her mouth shut and didn't mention it.

Clark managed to find another lake as twilight neared. "That's lucky", he said. This lake was quite a bit smaller than the one where they'd spent the past four days. Nevertheless, it was water, and there was a space to pitch the tent.

Lana stood, stretched. She sat down and nursed Laura, hearing the subtle whoosh she'd learned was Clark moving at speed. She looked up to find the tent pitched, a fire made, food cooking, and everything ready for dinner and bed.

"God, I love camping with you", she said.

Clark gave a small laugh. "Is Laura OK?" he asked, changing the subject.

"I think she's fine", Lana said. "You want to hold her for awhile?"

Clark reached eagerly for the baby, looking down at her with deep affection. Then dismay crossed his features as Laura grimaced and squirmed. A smell told its own story of a diaper that now needed changing.

"Just in time", Clark murmured.

* * *

They quickly settled into a routine. They would get up in the mornings, and have some breakfast. Lana would eat a meal from one of their dwindling store, not really able to face eating bear meat first thing in the morning. She looked on with interest at Clark shaving – actually, it was more along the lines of using her compact mirror, strategic angles and his heat vision to _burn _off his stubble. They would take care of the baby, wash, and brush their teeth. Then Clark would pack up the camp. Lana would hold the baby, and Clark carried them, the backpack, and the rapidly decreasing chunk of bear meat.

One time Clark used his super-speed to catch a duck. It was not very sporting, he thought, speeding up on it and grabbing it, but they needed a change from bear. He was grateful for his mother's abortive effort at selling organic chickens – he knew how to wring the bird's neck, gut it, pluck it, and burn off the pinfeathers with his heat vision. They only had the small camp grill to cook on, but Clark was able to roast it, again with the heat vision.

They'd make several stops during the day, and Lana would sometimes walk for a mile or two to stretch her legs and get some exercise. Then, as twilight approached, they'd set up camp for the evening. Clark was always able to find some source of water. Lana would feed the baby as he sped through camp set-up; he would also scout the nearby area. They combined what they remembered and generated a list of plants they were pretty sure were edible. Clark would cook some of the meat, they'd argue about the best way to prepare the plants, and they'd share dinner. Clark would wash clothing, hang it on the line, and dry anything that needed drying with his heat vision. After clean-up, it was usually almost full dark; they'd either sit around the fire for a short time, or retire to the tent and fall asleep almost immediately. Of course, Laura made sure that no sleep was uninterrupted, demanding regular feedings, changings, and attention.

In the morning, they'd get up and do it all over again. At first Clark chafed at their slow progress; had he been alone, or had he been able to protect Lana and the baby, he would have been able to get them home in a fraction of the time.

Then, as the days passed, he began to see their stranding as a blessing. Laura was a delight, every day having some new baby action that astounded them. And Clark and Lana, forced into proximity for so much of the day, spent much of it talking. He held her so close that she could hear him easily despite the wind noise. At first they talked of commonplaces, made small talk; then as the days progressed, they began speaking of things they'd held inside.

Clark enjoyed their conversations. As the miles and days passed, he realized, guiltily, that he was slowing down the pace. Unconsciously, he'd run slower – a subconscious reason to spend more time with Lana?

Clark asked her once if she wanted him to go run off on his own and bring back some food for them. "That would help our supply problem", he said. "Even if I can't take you with me when I run fast, I can go alone and bring back some food."

Lana thought about it. Certainly she'd appreciate some different food. But Clark leaving?

"No", she said. "Clark, I know that probably everything would go OK. But if you left us, and something happened to you…"

Clark understood. "You'd be alone in the wilderness with Laura, with no way to call for help."

"So, I appreciate the thought, but I really don't want you to leave us." Lana smiled. "I just feel superstitious about you leaving us…" Then, teasing Clark, she said, "Of course, I'm still going to complain about the food situation, even though I'm not letting you do anything about it."

Clark chuckled. "Just warning me in advance here, aren't you?"

"Right."

True to her word, a day or so later on, Lana in her usual position in Clark's arms, said, "I would kill for a cup of coffee from the Talon now. Not even a cappuccino or a mocha grande – just plain black coffee."

"I know what you mean", Clark said. "I have dreams myself of sitting down to a hot cup. Just being there at the table, sipping the coffee, and eating one of my mother's muffins."

"Umm", Lana agreed, licking her lips. "Your mother's muffins are the best." She squirmed in his grip, checking Laura in the latter's carrier sling. A thought came to her. "Clark?"

"What?"

"What are you doing about the farm?" Lana was ashamed that she hadn't thought about it before. "I mean, you were doing all the chores there."

"I left my mother a note."

"A note?"

"Ever since about a week after Dark Thursday, we've set up a contingency plan where either of us can call in some temporary hired hands on short notice", Clark said soberly. "I guess you never know what will happen. We wanted to make sure we had some backup for the farm."

"I guess you're right about not knowing what will happen", Lana said quietly.

"Life is uncertain", Clark said grimly. "I think both of us know that."

"Yes", Lana agreed in a small voice.

"But the farm is doing well, and my Mom is doing OK in her senator job", Clark said in a determinedly cheerful voice.

"I'm glad to hear that", Lana replied. "Your Mom's such an amazing person…"

"I know. I mean, you might think I'm amazing, but it's really my Mom who is. She's done so much, lived through so many problems, dealt with so many issues, and she doesn't have my special abilities."

Lana asked quietly, "I don't mean to be rude, Clark…how is she doing now that it's been a year since your dad passed away?"

Clark sighed. "It's been really hard for both of us. I keep on coming in the house and expecting to hear his voice." His voice roughened. "One time, I came in. I really wanted to tell him something and just called for him – "Dad! Dad!" – then I realized he was gone. Then it really hit home."

"I'm sorry, Clark", she said. "I lost my parents at such a young age…" Neither of them brought up the meteor shower. "Your Dad was always sort of a surrogate father to me. I knew I could count on him."

Lana thought she noticed a tear in Clark's eye – or was that just the wind? "He taught me everything. I miss him so much", Clark said, a definite catch in his voice. He ran on in silence for a moment.

Then Clark asked her, "How is your father doing – I mean Henry Small? Have you heard from him at all?"

Lana grimaced. "You know, I really had hopes of having a relationship with him. But, you know, after his wife told me that she was going to divorce Henry because of me, I knew I had to step back. So I did, and three months later they moved to Metropolis and I haven't heard from them since."

"What about his daughters? They'd be your half-sisters."

"I never met them. I don't know if Henry even let them know about me. I wonder if he ever did, because since I married Lex, all sorts of people have come out of the woodwork." She stirred a little bit in Clark's arms, readjusting her position. She said bitterly, "And they all want money."

"Aargh. That's got to be tough."

"Yes. Now I understand Lex a little bit better – he's been getting this all his life."

Clark ran on for a moment, not saying anything. Then he said firmly, "Lana, I'm not the best person to talk to about Lex. You know we have issues. There's a lot of things I'd like to say that wouldn't be very nice. And he is your husband. So I'm just going to be quiet about him."

Lana considered this. "Thanks, Clark. I can see your point. I appreciate it." Deliberately, she said nothing about her own issues with Lex. Did he really trust her? Did she really trust him? He was a billionaire; he'd had so many women. How did she compare to those other women? Did she really satisfy him? Was it true, he only wanted her so Clark couldn't have her? She'd really hoped she could talk to Clark about these things sometimes, but right now…he just didn't seem ready.

"You know…" she said musingly.

"What?"

"Lex doesn't know about Laura yet." _And you do_, was the unspoken subtext.

"He has a wonderful daughter", Clark said quietly. _Just drop this subject, Lana._

"The one I'm wondering about is Lionel."

"Lionel?" Clark asked, startled.

"I wonder what kind of grandfather he'll be", Lana said.

Lionel as a grandfather. The mind boggled. Somehow Clark just couldn't see him whittling toy trains or taking Laura to the zoo, a balloon in her hand. "I hope he's a better grandfather than he was a father."

He considered telling Lana about Lex's half-brother Lucas, and how Lionel had set up a vicious rivalry between the brothers. Clark had been there when the test turned violent. Even he, schooled as he was in Lionel's duplicity and ruthlessness, was shocked.

Clark settled for saying, in as neutral a voice as possible, "I think a lot of Lex's issues are related to the way Lionel raised him." Then, more fiercely, "Don't leave Laura alone with Lionel."

Lana considered this, mentally chewing it over. Strangely enough, she recognized the importance of Clark's warning; she felt it in her bones herself. She didn't trust Lionel either.

She turned her thoughts to grandfathers. She'd never known hers, both sets of grandparents having predeceased her parents. _Mr. Kent would have been a wonderful grandfather._ That sparked another train of thought.

"Clark?"

"Another question?" he asked teasingly.

"Do you know anything about your biological parents?" _If I had married Clark…_

The smile slipped off his face. "They were destroyed along with the planet Krypton when it blew up."

"But how do you know that?" Lana persisted, curious.

_Oh God, that's a long story, _Clark thought, thinking of all the stuff he'd gone through, with, and in spite of, Jor-El. "It's a long story", he said.

"Please, Clark", Lana pleaded. "How could you know anything? You said you were a baby when you came here. Did they send an instruction manual with you or something?"

Unwillingly, Clark laughed. "I sure wished they did. Especially when I was a teenager and getting my powers. It was like, I'd wake up one day, and I could do something totally weird, something totally alien. And I couldn't talk to anyone about it. No, there was no manual."

Lana made an inquiring noise.

Clark gave up. "No, they didn't send an instruction book. They sent my biological father."

"What?"

"Actually, there is an A.I., an artificial intelligence, that my biological father modeled after himself. It thinks of itself as my father."

_"What?"_

Clark continued, deciding to tell her the whole story now. "He didn't manifest himself till our sophomore year. He gave me some background on myself and on my home…my birth world. That's how I know about Krypton and its destruction."

"Go on", she said weakly.

"The trouble is, he wants me to be a proper Kryptonian. And apparently, proper Kryptonian behavior includes stuff like not being friends with humans, and world conquest and dominion."

Lana turned pale.

"Oh, don't worry about that, Lana. I'm not going to conquer the world", Clark said in a half-joking voice. "I mean, I see all the crap my mother puts up with. And she's only a state senator, in a smaller state, not even a governor or president. Conquering the world would be a billion times more hassle." He looked at her; they both laughed.

"I've had a lot of fights with him." Clark gave Lana a reassuring smile. Then, fiercely, he said, "Jonathan Kent was my real father. He taught me a lot more about life, and everything else, than Jor-El."

"Jor-El?"

"The name of my biological father." He loped on, Lana breathing heavily in his arms. "Anyway, he's tried to mold my behavior, and get me to do, um, Kryptonian stuff", Clark said, an inward expression in his eyes. "I've fought back."

"Uh-huh."

"Sometimes I regretted the consequences of not following his plans." Clark sounded grim. Lana realized there was a lot more to _that _story than he was telling her. "But I've managed to break free of his dictates. I command my own destiny now." He realized that Lana couldn't understand the epic nature of that achievement, the long and stormy history between himself and Jor-El, the threats, the blackmail, the loved ones' lives taken hostage.

"The only thing is…"

"What, Clark?"

"Well, actually, now that I've broken free of him, I've realized that he still has things to teach me. And something that, um, somebody said once, was that I was supposed to take training from him to keep Earth from being destroyed like Krypton was."

Lana turned pale again. She looked around at the blue skies, heard the gentle breeze soughing past her, smelled the piney scent in the air. She held the baby in her arms more tightly. "If that's the case, I hope you take the training, Clark", she said cautiously.

"Now I want to. But I can't till I take care of the Zoners—"

"Zoners?" she asked curiously.

Clark sighed. _Should have kept my mouth shut there. _"That's another long story."

"I'm right here."

"I think it's time to camp for the night." He deflected further questions.

Clark sniffed, followed the scent of water. Soon they were at an acceptable campsite. Clark did his usual miraculous set-up-things-in-five-seconds routine. Lana answered nature's call – the irregular diet, combined with post-pregnancy hormonal changes, was wreaking havoc with her digestion. Clark, of course, didn't seem bothered by that.

Clark went off to forage, returning in about five minutes with a handful of plants. He put together a dinner at normal speed, aided only by his heat vision, whilst Lana fed and changed Laura.

They did not talk as they ate the evening meal; as their rations dwindled, somehow it seemed more important to concentrate on what they had, treat what remained with proper respect. As usual, Clark cleaned up, being the only one of them who could command hot water. Lana felt a little guilty over that, being raised with the idea that whoever cooked didn't have to do the dishes - and here Clark was getting stuck with all the domestic chores, night after night.

Clark and Lana sat companionably by the fire, sitting close by each other, sharing warmth. Lana turned to look at him.

"'Zoners'?" she asked.

"As I said, a long story."

"Come on, Clark. You can't get me all tantalized like that", Lana said.

"Hey, it seems like I've been doing all the talking here. It's time for you to talk."

"What?"

"Fair's fair. From now on, if I tell you something, you have to tell me something."

"Um…"

"Here's the rules. You can say you don't want to talk about it and you don't have to. Or you can not talk about any one or two parts of it, and talk about the rest of it. But if you do talk about it, you have to tell the truth", Clark said firmly.

"But you have a lot more to tell than I do!" Lana protested.

"Oh, I don't know about that", Clark said, tormenting her. "I think you're like Cleopatra – what did Shakespeare say?" Lana gave him a look of surprise. He continued, "'_Age cannot wither, nor custom stale, her infinite variety.' _I'm sure you'll have plenty to tell."

"But…but…" Lana gabbled. Her mouth opened and closed a few more times. Finally she gave in. "OK."

"Well, if you're going to abide by the rules, I'll start. The Zoners are escaped galactic super-criminals from the Phantom Zone." He gave Lana a smug smile.

She sputtered. "Clark, you can't leave it there!"

"My turn", he retorted. "I'll start easy. Did you ever try contacting Henry Small again?"

Lana looked away. "I did ask Chloe to look him up in Metropolis. She got me his address and phone. I did go by his place one time. I thought about calling him, going up and meeting him….then I decided to let it go, let him take the first step if he wanted to keep in contact with me." She gave a bitter laugh. "I think I've been in the news enough that he'd know where I can be found."

Clark reached out, put a reassuring hand on her thigh.

Lana smiled. "My turn back. What's the Phantom Zone, why are galactic super-criminals in it, and how did they escape?"

"I still think you're getting more information than you're giving", Clark grumbled. "All right. The Phantom Zone was invented by my biological father, Jor-El, as an escape-proof prison to hold really dangerous criminals, not just from Krypton, but from other planets and other galaxies. It's like some weird parallel dimension. If you're there, you don't age, you don't need to eat or drink, but you can hurt and bleed. It's sterile – nothing grows there, nothing changes. It's life imprisonment in solitary, and you're immortal." Clark leaned forward, threw a branch on the fire. "As to why the criminals are there, I assume they broke their laws and got thrown into the Kryptonian slammer."

"If it's escape-proof, how did they escape?" Clark quirked an eyebrow at her, and Lana responded defensively, "Hey, this isn't a new question. It's a clarification of the last question."

"I got trapped in the Phantom Zone." Lana opened her mouth in surprise as Clark continued. "My father had built a backdoor into the system in case someone from our family ever was unjustly exiled there. I was able to use the backdoor, but while it was open, a lot of the bad guys got out too. Now they're on Earth and I have to…take care…of them."

Lana shivered as she thought of aliens, possibly with Clark-like powers, but lacking his upbringing and strong moral code. _How could we ever stop them if they went bad?_

"Don't worry", Clark said, giving her an outwardly confident smile. "So far I've gotten a bunch taken care of."

"A bunch?"

"Well, there's still a few more of them out there. I'm working on that." He shifted his position, stared into the fire. "My turn again. What did you suspect about me, and for how long, before you found out?"

It was Lana's turn to move uncomfortably and look at the flames. "Well, I've known ever since freshman year that there was something a little funny about you. In fact, it's ever since the tornado I've been wondering." She poked a stick in the fire, watched sparks fly up into the sky. "Now I realize that I really did see you in the truck, in the tornado, saving me. But then I had a head injury, and you denied everything, and then I really started wondering if you were right and I was hallucinating."

"I'm sorry about that", Clark said in a soft voice.

"And then as the years went on, you kept lying – I could tell you were lying about things. And I was wondering if you were a meteor freak, and I could understand, if you were, why you didn't want to tell anyone about it. And then, it was weird –"

"A word that tends to come up often when discussing Smallville", Clark interjected.

"Yes. It was weird. Sometimes I'd get to the point where I assumed that you did have some crazy meteor powers, and then you'd be normal. It really threw me off."

Lana poked the fire again. "You know, Clark, now that I've seen what you can really do, I'm still wondering about that. I mean, that time with Perry White, your hands were bleeding. And on this trip, I've seen you break tree branches with no gloves or anything, and your hands aren't even scratched."

Clark smiled as he remembered that day – it was one of those days that seemed funnier in retrospect than when it happened. "Do you remember we had a solar flare that week?"

"No."

"Well, I did, because it was important to me. I think my abilities come from the sun. When we had that flare, my powers were glitching all over the place – sometimes they'd work, sometimes they'd go into overdrive, and sometimes they wouldn't work at all. Rescuing him was one of those times where they didn't work at all. So I got rope burns on my hands."

Lana considered that. "Then you went to save him and you didn't have any special powers?" she breathed. "Wow."

Clark brushed it off. "You know, he was right about the tractor."

"The tractor?"

"You remember he said it fell from the sky. Everybody just assumed he was drunk."

"I remember _that."_

Clark started chuckling. "But he was right. My dad had asked me to lift up the tractor so he could get at the underside to fix something. The solar flare was glitching my powers and they were in overdrive. I went to pick up the tractor and ended up tossing it into the air." Clark laughed. "Then, when I went to see where it landed, Perry White just happened to be standing there, waiting for the bus. To him, it looked like I just came out of nowhere, because I was super-speeding there." Clark laughed harder. "I mean, he saw all these crazy Smallvillian things that were happening, and me and my parents were the only ones who knew why, and everyone else just thought he was just a crazy drunk with the DT's…" Clark broke off, unable to continue, laughing.

Lana started giggling too, drawn in by his infectious laugh. "The mystery explained at last", she said. "I'm glad it worked out for him."

"Yeah, we were both lucky. And I hope he's changed his life for the better." Clark's laughter died down.

"How did you get trapped in the Phantom Zone, Clark?" Lana asked, taking his pause as her opportunity to get in the next question.

Clark stopped laughing as he remembered that time. "Zod trapped me in there."

Lana gasped, turned pale again. "Zod?" She began hyperventilating.

"Lana! Calm down!" Clark said, taking her shoulders in his hands. "What do you know about Zod?"

"What do _you_ know?" she countered. Clark let her go, leaned back, sighed, apparently realizing that he had to talk first.

"OK, here's the short story. Zod was a megalomaniac dictator back on Krypton. My biological father stopped his life of crime, got him imprisoned in the Phantom Zone, and his body destroyed. Zod swore vengeance on my father and his family - by implication, me. When…um, conditions were right, Zod sent Milton Fine to prepare his way. Fine was masquerading as a teacher at Central Kansas A&M, but in actuality was a Kryptonian computer artificial intelligence."

Clark gave Lana a brief smile. "Does this sound crazy enough to you yet?"

She nodded. "Go on", Lana said.

Clark continued. "Fine, ah, arranged a way for Zod's soul to escape from the Phantom Zone. Zod's soul possessed Lex's body."

"Oh." Lana said, staring into the fire. The information was overwhelming.

"What did Zod do to you?" Clark asked quietly. He'd wondered about this for a long time. That had been around the time they'd been most uncomfortable with each other, not talking, and Chloe hadn't been able to find out much either.

Lana looked away, not talking. Clark heard the baby move around a little on her blankets. "Lana?"

"God, that was a horrible time", she said softly. "Lex got taken up by the ship. When he came back, I thought he was the same, but then on Dark Thursday, he was a totally different person. Now I know why he called himself 'Zod'."

"And?" Clark prompted.

"I met your mother and Lionel in your barn. They were talking about killing Lex with some special knife. I knew I was the only person who could get close enough to do that." Lana deliberately didn't say why she would have the opportunity to get near him – she didn't want to think about her attempted seduction, trying to stab him, and failing.

Lana got up, paced around the fire. "I tried to stab him, but he was too fast for me." She walked a little faster as she remembered that time. Mixing up the sequence of events slightly, she said, "Zod stabbed me in the hand."

"Oh, God, Lana", Clark said softly. He got up, took her hands in his, ran his fingers over the scar in her palm. He hadn't realized the cause of _that_ before.

"I lost consciousness. In the hospital, I saw Lex again. By that time he wasn't Zod anymore. I don't know what happened." She gave an inquiring look at Clark. "You had something to do with that, didn't you?"

Clark sighed. "Now that it's true confessions time, yes." He poked at the fire. "I got out of the Phantom Zone and came to the mansion. You were unconscious. Zod and I had a fight. He was stronger than I was, but I was able to defeat him by using a Kryptonian artifact of my father's. My biological father", he added, as if she couldn't figure that out.

Lana heard him, guessing again that there was more to the story than Clark was telling. She also knew, from his tone, that he didn't want to tell a lot more.

Clark continued. "I was able to…cast out Zod's soul from Lex's body. Fortunately Lex's personality hadn't been destroyed." The firelight glinted off his eyes as he gave her a sober look. "I was fortunate he didn't remember what he'd done while he was possessed."

"I know. I met him in the hospital and he didn't remember", Lana said. She shivered. Remembering those days…she didn't want to talk anymore.

"Clark, let's go to bed", she urged him.

He looked up in surprise, then said, "Sure."

With his usual quick cleanup, it was only a matter of a few minutes before they lay together in the tent.

"Hold me, Clark", Lana pleaded. He took her in his arms. She was trembling. "I was remembering Dark Thursday. Zod was so…so…_inhuman._ He was going to reshape the world and he didn't care if everyone died. It was like we were bugs to him and he could just step on us. We didn't matter."

Clark wordlessly hugged her.

"I'm sorry about this…that's why I was so afraid of you…at the lake…when I found out", Lana whispered.

"Oh, Lana." Clark said. "I don't know how I can…what I can do…" He reached for her hand, gave it a reassuring squeeze. "All I can do is try and convince you by my actions…" He hugged her again. "I was brought up here on Earth. Everyone and everything I care about is here. This is my home now. I want to keep it…and all of you…safe." He spoke quietly but with intensity.

Lana gave a ragged laugh. "Clark, you've convinced me so far. You could have hurt me—" He gave a small noise of protest. Lana continued, "—or you could have just left me up alone at the lake. Instead, you've come to find me and save me, and I've taken all your time, and kept you away from the farm and your mother."

"It's no trouble", Clark murmured.

Lana rolled over to face him fully, careful of the baby lying between them. "Clark, it means so much to me that you do care. Not just about us, but about people you haven't even met. And the whole planet."

Clark gave a little embarrassed squirm. "Gosh folks, I'm speechless", he said in a credible imitation of the Cowardly Lion receiving the medal at the end of the "Wizard of Oz" movie. Lana smiled. She could tell Clark was uncomfortable with the praise.

"Good night", she said, and turned back over. It didn't take long for her to fall asleep.


	9. Three O'Clock In The Morning Thoughts

Clark stayed awake a little longer, thinking about her comments. Lana didn't know all the mistakes he'd made, the regrets he'd had. But then he thought, _That's in the past now. All I can do is go forward from here. _ He carefully leaned over and touched her.

That was one of the things he'd come to enjoy most about this strange camping trip. The tent was very snug – purportedly a two-man, but the two men would have to be pretty cozy. Clark found himself waking up every morning with an arm thrown over Lana. Sometimes it was Lana's arm over him. The first morning it had been a little awkward, but then they'd both wordlessly decided to accept it, to live with it as part of this odd series of events.

Clark realized that he'd been starved for human touch ever since breaking up with Lana. When they were together, he'd loved touching her, caressing her, running his hands over her body as they made love, before and after too. Even handshakes and hugs in public had the unstated background, the promise to touch each other tenderly later on. She'd massaged him, rubbed his back, tantalized him with light butterfly-like touches too. He missed all that.

His mother still hugged him, but it was different now that his father was gone and he was the man of the house. Clark had to protect her now; in some ways, the parent-child relationship had turned upside down. He still loved and respected his mother, but he saw now how his parents had given him the tools to become an adult. Sometimes the responsibility was hard.

Clark couldn't touch Chloe, not that he didn't want to, but it might awaken sleeping dogs in the delicate détente of their emotional relationship. Chloe was his best friend, and he trusted her beyond anyone except his mother, but a romantic relationship? What could happen there? He might lose her friendship, a thought not bearable.

Of course, he wasn't going to be hugging and kissing Lois, and even the handshakes and hearty pats on the back from Lex were, of course, now a thing of the past.

So, to be curled up against another human, to feel their warmth, their heart beating, to hear their steady breathing in the dark stillness of three a.m., was a simple joy to him. Clark couldn't stop remembering the times Lana and he had fallen asleep in bed together after making love. Sometimes, (and it was becoming more frequent), on this trip, in the tent together, he felt the stirrings of desire.

He wondered if Lana did too. In his fantasies, he saw them kissing, hugging, going further. Then the baby would cry and he'd come plummeting back to Earth, realizing that Lana had just delivered a baby and probably was in no mood for sex. And that wasn't even getting into the whole Lex-is-your-husband thing. So Clark had carefully kept these feelings to himself.

It would be hard to see Lana go back to her life with Lex. Confessing his secret to her had gotten things out in the open. Despite the initial fear, she accepted him now, and conversations together now weren't aborted by Clark's need to misdirect and lie to protect his identity. He'd grown to love her even more.

Clark tossed and turned. Then there was Laura. The baby had become dear to him as the days passed. He loved her tiny face, her dark eyes that sometimes widened in surprise, sometimes screwed up in rage as she cried for food or changing. Clark spent a lot of time holding her when they were in camp; Laura in turn seemed to like being held by him. Most of the time, now, she'd stop crying when Clark picked her up. He found himself singing lullabies and nursery rhymes to her, tunes that he remembered his mother singing to him when he was a child.

But when they got back to civilization…officially, Laura was Lex's child. Lex would get the DNA test, the birth certificate - all the insignia of title, so to speak – he had all the parental rights. Even though Clark had been present at her birth, had cared for her for days now, legally, he had no claims to Laura.

_Unless I'm really her father…_Clark resolutely turned his thoughts away. He didn't know the law – if a child was born to parents in wedlock, was the male parent automatically presumed to be the father of the child, even with DNA evidence disproving it? What if the mother said that someone other than her husband was the father? Luthorcorp lawyers would certainly argue whatever was most advantageous for Lex. _If I were her father…_But proving that would be difficult to do without revealing his secret. Clark would do it in a heartbeat, though, when he thought what lay in store for Laura.

Lex hated Clark. There was no way he'd ever let Clark see Laura. She'd be surrounded by bodyguards, isolated, raised in the mansion with only servants for company, no true friends. And, worst of all, raised by the Luthor family, a family with a parricidal grandfather, a murdering, mentally ill grandmother, and a twisted father. Clark liked Lana, but knew there was no way she could stand up to the power and influence of the Luthors. She was only one person against the machine.

Fantasies spun through his head. What if Lana divorced Lex? Now that she knew his secret, Clark could and would offer marriage. He would gladly raise Laura, assuming that Lana could get custody. He bet that Lana still had some feelings for him, from things that she'd said – and hadn't said—on their travels together.

Then reality hit him upside the head. _Don't be stupid, Clark_, he told himself. He forced himself to go to sleep.

* * *

Lana woke in the middle of the night, crawling out to use the latrine, her increased frequency a remnant from her pregnancy. Clark woke a little as he usually did, but fell back to sleep as she re-entered the tent. Lana sat up in the tight confines, her head brushing the centerline. She picked up Laura, put the squirming baby to her breast.

As Laura nursed, Lana stared into the darkness of the tent, just thinking. It awed her that Clark now trusted her with his secret. Even though she'd found out by accident, he'd been open, telling her things she wouldn't have found out on her own, things that he hadn't really needed to tell her. It was as if he'd decided, _If she knows part of it, I'm going to tell her everything about it. _

Knowing that Clark was an alien made so much sense now. It explained all the weird happenings, the crazy things that always seemed to occur around him. Seeing him (or, more accurately, _not _seeing him) use super-speed to set up their camp brought back memories of miraculous rescues, now explained. She still had a little bit of an aversion to the heat vision; despite the much-appreciated hot showers, at times Lana still had horrible memories of the black ship aliens burning up people, destroying vehicles, leaving charred piles of ash.

It was amazing, really. Waking up in the morning, realizing, _I'm sleeping next to an alien_, made her breath catch sometimes. The world wasn't all explored and discovered. She wasn't bound to being what her parents had been. There was something really astounding in the world and she knew what – knew who - it was. Sometimes she just said, _Wow_, quietly, as Clark did some other unreal thing.

The things he could do…he'd run all day with her in his arms and never be breathing hard. Clark would set up camp, hunt for food, cook, heat water, do all sorts of things to make them more comfortable, and he never made any cracks about her not doing any of the work. He'd literally almost died for her in the bear attack, then had miraculously healed himself. He'd come to search her out in the middle of the wilderness. Lana faced it – she would have died of exposure or starvation, or from having the baby, without his help.

It had been very good having the time to really talk with him. Lana would talk, Clark would reply, as he carried her. By now she figured that Clark was running slower than before, but that he didn't seem to realize it. Selfishly she hoped that subconsciously, he wanted to spend more time with her. She certainly wanted to spend more time with him. It was an odd vacation, a prolonged date, a forced intimacy.

Having Clark's secret out in the open made their conversation easy now. They could talk about anything, and did. Except Lex, and her marriage, and what would happen in the future. Both had tacitly stayed away from those topics - metaphorical kryptonite.

Lana hadn't wanted to face it, but holding her baby at three a.m. in the dark night, she forced herself to consider the future. She couldn't turn her back on Clark now; they were better friends than ever. Lana asked herself if she still had romantic feelings for him. _Yes you do and you know it_, she told herself. Waking up in the morning clutching him, legs entwined with his, head resting on his chest, probably told him that too. Ever the gentleman, he'd said nothing, defusing a potentially awkward topic. Lately, though, a few of Clark's physical reactions had made Lana wonder if Clark still had romantic feelings for _her_, too.

Of course, after just having a baby,(and without an epidural or anythingshe thought), sexual intercourse was the last thing she wanted right now. But as the days passed, Lana remembered some of the other things they'd done, the tender kisses, the love play, the caresses,. She wanted to ask, _Clark, do you remember that too?_ But she didn't dare. Opening that topic was too dangerous.

She switched Laura to the other breast, lost in thought. _I've married Lex. I've given him my word. We have a child together. _Although, right now, it felt like Laura was Clark's baby.

She wondered about that, sometimes – counting back, it _was_ possible. _If _Clark had been human, like he said, at that time. Her biology classes had given her an idea of all the incredible things that had to go right for a woman to have a healthy baby (which Laura seemed to be, so far.) Despite the _Inquisitor_'s frequent lurid headlines (_and to think I used to just laugh at the "I Had Sex With A Space Alien" stories_), Lana didn't think that it would be that simple for an alien and a human to have a child together. In fact, it was probably impossible. _But if Clark was human then…_She wondered if she dared to bring up that subject in their conversations. She really wanted to ask him – _were you really human, Clark, then, or were you just a Kryptonian without powers?_ The answer might make such a difference.

What bothered her, what kept her awake at night, were trust issues. She'd broken up with Clark because of that, tired of his lying. Now Lana wondered about Lex – he said that he trusted her, that he was telling her everything. But she knew that he wasn't, not all the time, not about everything. She knew that Lex had to keep some things confidential for business, and knew that Lex felt she might not want to hear all the gory details of certain other things. But was Lex straight with her about the things she asked him directly about? It was making her paranoid, almost – _Is Lex lying to me about this or not? _ She could never be certain.

Wispy daydreams had gone through her head in the past few days. Gradually they were becoming more solid, but still fantastical. Thoughts of divorcing Lex, of marrying Clark, having Martha Kent as Laura's grandmother. Living with a man who had proved with his actions that he loved her, a man who trusted her with his biggest secret.

Then sober second thoughts intruded. _Be serious, Lana. _Lex would never let his daughter go. And did Lana want to leave him? Lex loved her too, she would bet on that.

Strange as it would seem, the money wasn't a factor – not only had Lex given her several million dollars when they arranged the pre-nuptial agreement, but she had her trust fund, investments from her parents' life insurance policies. She'd always had enough to live comfortably. Just because she'd married a billionaire didn't mean that she was tied to the billionaire lifestyle.

But marrying a billionaire had its drawbacks too – being stalked by paparazzi not least among them. Lana shifted restlessly, the baby breaking off her suckling for a moment as she did so. Another reason to stay with Lex. Going to Clark would be the juiciest scandal of the decade – a love triangle that would guarantee scads of sales of the _Inquisitor_ and other tabloids. They'd never have privacy. And now Lana knew how important that was to Clark. He was good at covering up his secret, but he slipped sometimes.

Lana closed her eyes, squeezing the lids tightly. She told herself that what was important was that she had given Lex her word. She'd promised to marry, love, and honor him. Maybe it was natural to want to go back to an old flame, to what now seemed a better offer, but she'd like to feel that when she gave her word, it meant something, that it wouldn't be thrown to the side at the first temptation. _It's my integrity on the line. I will not betray Lex. I'll make our marriage work. _

Right now, hearing Clark's steady breathing in the tent, it seemed a dry and bitter thought. She sighed.

Then she had another thought: _What if Lex betrayed me first?_


	10. Taking A Day Off

Lana tossed and turned all night, sleeping poorly. In the confines of the tent, that meant the other two occupants slept poorly too. As a result, they all slept late, not getting up at dawn as they usually did.

Finally, a combination of crying baby and full bladder aroused Lana. She passed Laura to Clark for him to hold while she went to the latrine. Frankly, it was a pain to put on one's shoes as one left the tent, trek down into the forest, go, come back, and take off one's shoes going back into the tent. Lana longed to be home, where she could get up to pee in the middle of the night and not have to worry about stepping on a rock or a branch, or tripping over a stump, or getting her feet muddy. _I just want to be able to walk on carpet, in bare feet, on a flat floor, to my heated bathroom that has real toilet paper. Not leaves._

Clark made his own trip to the forest while Lana nursed the baby. He came back, looking as flat as Lana felt, his usual good humor a little subdued. Except for getting water, he didn't slip into super-speed while preparing breakfast as he usually did, either.

Clark glared at the woodpile in the firepit; he'd set it up the night before. The wood obligingly burst into flames. Clark set the water pan on the cooking grill, not helping it boil with the heat vision, letting it heat up naturally. He looked into the backpack and pulled out the last dehydrated meal. He sighed and got it ready.

Lana finished nursing, came over, and wordlessly handed him the baby. By now they had a morning routine down. Clark could tell that Lana still craved an early morning coffee; alas, by now they were out of even herbal tea. She settled for boiled-then-cooled lake water. Clark glanced at her; Lana looked as tired and mopey as he did.

"Last dehydrated meal." Clark broke the morning stillness, startling Lana and the baby.

"Oh."

Clark sat down next to her. "Well, the good news is that I think we're close to the edge of the forest. Once we get onto some open terrain, I can go really fast till we get to a road. And once we get to a road, we'll be back to civilization in no time."

"Oh." Lana looked at the ground dully. Both of them seemed to have serious enthusiasm issues this morning.

"Clark?"

"Yes?"

"Do you mind if we take a break today?"

Clark sat back on his haunches. "A break?"

"I'm tired of traveling and I want a day off."

Really, it was fine with him. He was only worried about her. "Well, it's OK with me. But I'm worried about what you'll eat. We've got a little bear left, and some duck, and I can probably go out and catch a quail or something, or maybe catch some fish…" He gestured at the tiny lake he'd found to be their campsite last night.

"Anything will be fine."

They stayed camped at this new lake for the day. Lana and the baby napped while Clark fished. He quickly found that he lacked all skill at fishing with a hook and line. And despite super-speed, it was harder than he thought to knock a fish out of the water. Eventually he found the best way was to wait quietly until the fish came up to him, then grab one with super-speed. He missed a few at first due to overcompensating for the water's refraction.

Clark gutted and filleted the fish, and cooled them down with an exhalation. That was an ability that had been pretty darn useful on this trip; storing food; without it, he'd have to have hunted every day, delaying their return even more.

Clark paced around their campsite, thinking about the future. It didn't bother him to take a day off, considering what was waiting for him when he and Lana returned. They'd get to some town and contact Lex, or Lionel, or some Luthorcorp person somehow. There would be some talk about Clark, coincidentally an old flame of the bride's, just _happening_ to go hiking and_ just happening_ to find Lana, but with no specific proof, that could be ignored.

But then Lana would reunite with Lex. She'd tell Lex about Clark's secret, or he'd worm it out of her. Clark grimaced as he followed that train of thought. Lex would stand astounded for maybe a microsecond. Then he would realize it all made sense. Then, after a period of thought, he'd work out some plan to either expose Clark, or more probably, blackmail him to do Lex's bidding.

Clark was ready, although certainly not willing, to live with his secret exposed if he had to. He dreaded the thought of it; it had been a feature of his nightmares ever since he was a kid and realized he could do things other people couldn't. The nightmares had really increased in frequency and intensity about two days after his father first showed him Clark's spaceship.

But what Clark feared most was the effect on his friends and family. What would happen to his mother? What about Chloe? How would Lois feel about him? He'd have to go through the whole "revealing" thing again – it would be hard to face the frightened glances again. Maybe he didn't care how the people on the street took the news, but what about the people he was closest to? He knew that Lex would use the people Clark loved, somehow, to get Clark to do what he wanted.

Clark was actually surprised that Lex hadn't lashed out at Clark's loved ones so far. He attributed Lex's restraint to a combination of things: Lex not really hating, and possibly even respecting, Martha Kent. Lionel extending some protection over the Kents. Martha being a senator and public figure. Lex knowing that Lana still had feelings, if not for Clark, at least for Mrs. Kent. Chloe might have something incriminating on Luthorcorp and on Lex. And, perhaps, the feeling that only Clark himself was Lex's opponent, and everyone else was in, sort of…a lesser weight class…maybe.

But when Lana spilled the beans, all bets were off. Clark's powers at Lex's control – a thought not to be borne. Clark thought about calling Oliver Queen; he'd need a billionaire on his own side; he'd certainly need a new identity. Too bad Virgil Swann was dead; Clark had a feeling that Dr. Swann could have understood his predicament and would have helped him.

Clark would have to leave Smallville, leave Kansas. Being a fugitive – maybe the government wouldn't bother to chase your run-of-the-mill felon. But they'd certainly be interested in what an alien had to tell them. They'd be so interested, in fact, that they'd chase him down wherever Clark went. The unique opportunity of capturing a real live extraterrestrial would guarantee Clark's face on the airwaves, publicity for months, a nationwide – no, a worldwide search. Options that humans had, like plastic surgery, weren't possible for him. He wouldn't be able to change his face. All he would be able to do would be things like changing his posture, acting nerdy, wearing glasses, or similar lame disguise attempts.

Clark sighed as he thought about the frightening future. He looked at the other hand. He could kill Lex. Lana had said she wouldn't tell anyone else, and he believed her. It was only Lex who knew her and Clark well enough, and knew the history between them, who would be able to get the secret out of Lana. So all Clark had to do was silence Lex. And dead men tell no tales.

Clark actually considered it. It would be easy. There were so many ways he could kill someone. Humans were so fragile, really. Frightening, but seductive images coursed through his mind. He could knock Lex out, and just hit a little too hard. Burn Lex with the heat vision. Rip off Lex's head. Or maybe just his arms, and let him bleed out. Freezing Lex, or sucking out all the air in the room and letting Lex drown in vacuum. Super-speed while holding Lex only by the hand, and let Lex's neck be broken, or at least give him a really bad case of whiplash. Or just picking up Lex, going to a tall building, and throwing him off. Of course, it would be difficult to kill Lex quietly, giving himself an alibi, and also in such a way that Lionel wouldn't know. Maybe he could arrange a poisoning – it wouldn't be hard to speed in and contaminate Lex's drinks. And a poisoning could be blamed on someone else – heck, maybe Lionel could be framed? Lionel had tried that before. But Clark would use a proper dose and Lex would be finished off properly this time. Like the game of "Clue", but for real. _It was Mr. Kent, with the poison, in the library. _

Clark contemplated it, then indulged in thinking of progressively more complicated and impractical murder plans, finally working out an elaborate Rube-Goldbergian scheme involving a huge pile of newspapers (the _Daily Planet,_ of course, in homage to Chloe), whipped cream, an Allen wrench, five gerbils, and the complete-volume set (1911 edition) of the _Encyclopedia Britannica._ Then he sat back and laughed at the absurdity. There was no way would ever do something like that. He wasn't a killer. He wouldn't use his abilities that way; it would taint them.

And, especially after seeing Laura, he couldn't kill anyone. To see a new soul, look into her eyes…it made one realize that souls came one to a customer and they were unique. When a soul departed this world, it left a pretty big hole. Not just in the physical world, but in the souls of those who loved them. Clark had found that out when his father died. The hole in Clark's soul would be there the rest of his life – it wasn't something that healed. And to deliberately crush out a life…Clark couldn't do it. Or rather, he possessed the capability and he could. But he wouldn't.

So it was time to start thinking of a plan. The first thing he'd do would be going to Chloe, tell her; then he'd contact Oliver Queen, get some help on the new identity front. It would be difficult for his mother, with her senatorial career, and her life and friends in Smallville, to move; when Clark moved away, he'd just have to be careful about contacting her. Of course, when the truth came out, her placid lifestyle would be a thing of the past too.

Clark looked up as Lana came out of the tent, for once not holding the baby. Her hair was unkempt and her walk slow.

"Clark", she said.

"Yes?"

"I've been thinking." Lana slowly walked to him.

"Yes?"

"I never really thanked you, you know, for everything. Everything you've done." Lana seemed a little abashed.

Clark was taken aback. "Well…um…"

"I mean, you've done so much for me. For us. Not counting all the stuff in the past. You came here for me, to get me." Lana wiped aside some moisture in her eyes. "I wanted to let you know how much I appreciate it."

Quietly, Clark said, "You're welcome."

Lana continued, words spilling out, now that she had decided to talk. "I mean, you've been doing all the work. I'm a little ashamed about that – I mean, I can do something – I worked in the Talon, I can cook, I could help set up the camp. Just on this trip – you've done it all."

Clark cast around. "Um, you don't have to….it's OK…" The obvious rejoinder came to his lips. "You've been taking care of Laura. I couldn't do that." He leaned over, reached for her hand. She let him take it. "And you just had a baby. That's a whole lot of work in itself." _More than I ever knew_, he thought. _I've never seen labor and delivery before, and it's…it's something._

He continued. "My Dad…if my Dad were still here…he'd kill me if I didn't take care of you. Or anybody in the same position." He squeezed Lana's hand slightly. "With everything you're doing for Laura…I consider the work fifty-fifty."

Lana smiled a bit. "And I'd probably only get in your way, anyway."

"Well…"

Lana's voice turned serious as she changed the subject. "You said that we'd probably be back to civilization tomorrow."

"That's assuming that we get out into open country where you're not at risk if I run fast, and if I can find a road. Once we get on a road, I can really put on the speed. And roads usually lead to a city or town somewhere." Clark stirred the fire, avoiding her gaze. He didn't want to think about the aftermath; he'd spent the afternoon having nightmares about that already.

"You know, Clark, I've been thinking", Lana said again.

"Yes?" That statement seemed to call for a one-word answer.

"It's about getting back home."

"Yes?"

"I don't want to tell your secret", Lana said.

"Well, that's good. I don't want you to tell anyone my secret either." Clark couldn't keep a tart tone from his voice.

Lana looked like she was going to say something, then bit off her words. Obviously changing her first words, Lana blurted, "Why did you tell Chloe?" _Why'd you tell her and not me?_

Clark glanced away from her, poked the fire. "I kind of had to tell her", he said slowly. "She snooped around and she saw me using my abilities in a way that I couldn't gloss over or hide." He remembered back to the Big Moment, when he'd come clean to Chloe. _"How long have you known?" he asked her. _

"_Well, I've had my suspicions for a long time. But when I saw you catch..a **car**…like it was a beachball, that kind of confirmed it." Chloe gave an ironic smile. _

Clark couldn't help contrasting Chloe's reaction – Chloe had been incredulous for a moment, then given him a big smile. He'd known then that it would be all right between the two of them. So different from Lana's frantic revulsion. But then, Chloe hadn't seen the alien disciples of Zod use their powers for destruction, either.

_Don't think about that. _"I wanted to tell you almost every day", he said to Lana. That was true. He'd thought about it every day. Not just thought about it – obsessed about it, brooded on it, rehearsed it a million times. Then he'd gone ahead and actually told her. And by that night Lana was dead.

Clark wasn't going to tell her _that._ Discussing that could only lead to painful disclosures. He alone was responsible for his father's death – the thought brought a familiar tinge of guilt and pain. If he told Lana the whole sequence of events, she might figure out that her life had been traded for Jonathan Kent's. Clark would not allow her to take on any of that burden. It was his alone.

"Why didn't you, then?" Lana asked.

Clark sighed. "I was afraid", he said. "I know I said this before, but I was scared." He looked away. "First, I was scared of how you'd react."

"With good reason", Lana said softly.

Clark reached over, took her hand. "I was afraid that you would see me differently."

Lana looked away. She didn't want to speak.

Clark continued. "And it's dangerous to know."

"Dangerous?"

"Lana, some other people have found out my secret besides Chloe. And a lot of those people are hurt or dead. Or they ended up in Belle Reve."

Lana thought about it. "I'm guessing a lot of them are people with meteor powers, and you had to use your abilities to stop them."

"That's right", Clark said, glad she understood. "I try not to hurt them, but a lot of times their own actions lead to…a bad outcome." _There's a good euphemism, Clark_, he told himself cynically. "Even being around me seems to be dangerous", he said bitterly. "Look at all the trouble you've been in. How much of that did I cause?"

Lana withdrew her hand from his. "Clark Kent", she said in a firm tone, "You are not responsible for all the crazy people in the world and what they do." She spoke more softly. "Besides, now I realize that you've been looking out for me all along."

"Yes", Clark admitted.

"And that's why I don't want to tell your secret." Lana stood. "But I know Lex will be able to tell that something is different. He knows me. He knows you. He'll be able to figure out that something has changed between us. I don't know if I'll be able to keep it from him."

Clark was silent. He was all in favor of keeping confidences. He didn't think Lana would be able to keep quiet either.

"I've been thinking…"

"Yes?" Again with the cryptic statements. He was getting tired of this.

"Clark, can you hypnotize me?"


	11. Loose Lips Sink Ships

"What?"

"Can you hypnotize me and give me a suggestion that I wouldn't tell Lex your secret? Maybe something, like if I were in Lex's presence, I wouldn't remember your secret? Then I'd act normal around Lex."

Clark sat, stunned. He'd never thought of something like this. He'd just been mentally planning the worst. Here was a thread of hope.

"That's a good idea", Clark said slowly. "I never considered that."

"I think it would work", Lana said pleadingly. "I don't want to betray you." She turned so she stared him in the eyes, making a flat statement.

"I appreciate that", Clark said softly. Then he got up, began pacing. "I don't know a lot about hypnosis. I read a book about it once."

"I read a book about it once too", Lana said, echoing his tone. "I think I'd be a good subject."

"Why?"

"They said that one trait of good subjects was being able to lose yourself in a book or a story. I've always been able to do that – get into a book and lose any sense of what's happening outside."

Clark laughed. "You know, I've always been that way too. Give me some good story and I'm deaf to the world till it's done." For the first time he felt a flicker of optimism. He stopped pacing, sat down near Lana again.

"What I remember from the book is that you can't be hypnotized into doing something that you would have serious objections to. It's basically a state of heightened suggestibility."

"What would you suggest?"

Clark stopped, not sure. He said slowly, "Well, let's talk about that. We don't want any problems or crazy things happening. How about that you won't tell my secret?"

"That seems OK, but what if things happen?" Lana asked.

Clark didn't want to know what kind of things could happen. "How about…if you're in a situation where it's very likely that you might tell…that all your memories, your knowledge of me being an alien, me using my abilities, will get walled off into a part of your mind and you'll forget it temporarily? Then, if anyone asks you, you really won't know."

"But…"

"Then we can say, that once you're out of danger, that the memories will come back, and you will know again. But you won't show any sign that you know." Clark sounded hopeful.

"I think I can go with that", Lana said slowly. Then she straightened and said, "You want to try now?"

"Now?"

"No time like the present", Lana said briskly.

Clark swallowed, said, "OK. Why don't you feed Laura first, and go to the bathroom. You're supposed to be comfortable for the hypnosis to happen."

"OK." Lana got Laura from the tent, the baby just waking. Putting Laura to her breast, Lana nursed her and burped her. She grimaced as Laura cried, moved, and filled the diaper.

"I'll take care of her", offered Clark. Lana gave the baby to him gratefully, and Clark, familiar with long practice, cleaned and changed Laura. Lana went to the forest while Clark played with the baby, saying nonsense words, smiling at her, holding her.

Fortunately Laura was a good sleeper and took a lot of naps; Clark worried at times that this was abnormal, maybe because of poor nutrition or her irregular housing and sleeping circumstances. But since Laura seemed to be gaining weight and didn't seem to be crying all the time, he said nothing, not wanting to upset Lana. And, frankly, he didn't know a lot – heck, he didn't know anything – about child development. He'd never had younger siblings (a flash of remembered pain here), nor nieces or nephews. He'd held Pete's sister's baby once, but Clark had been a young teen then, and babies were _so _out of his area of interest at that time. So it was a learning experience, in many ways, dealing with Laura.

Lana came back, took the baby, whose eyelids were drooping. She put Laura in the tent, wrapping her up in their makeshift baby blanket. Lana came back to the campsite.

Clark had gotten the blanket and unrolled it next to the fire. "Why don't you lie down?" he asked. "Then you can relax."

Lana looked at the blanket dubiously. The whole thing seemed crazy. _But let's try it._

"OK", she said, and stretched herself out on the blanket.

Clark sat next to her, near her head and shoulders. "I've never done this before." He seemed nervous too. "Let's just try me talking in a low tone. In a monotonous voice."

Lana grinned at the thought. "OK, Clark", she said. "Low tone. Monotonous voice. You'll sound like one of my recent college professors. He put me to sleep every day I was in his class."

Clark laughed too. "We're halfway there, then." He said, "Why don't you take a few deep breaths?"

Lana stopped talking, focused on her breathing, trying to make it regular, deep. She felt herself calming, her heart slowing. Muscles she hadn't known were tense were relaxing themselves. She shivered, feeling chilled a little as she lay still. Then a wave of warmth came over her; without looking, she knew Clark was helping her with his heat vision.

"You are feeling very sleepy…." Clark couldn't keep the humor out of his voice at the cliché, and it made Lana come up a little from her already-partly-relaxed state.

"Clark!" Lana sat up partially.

"What?"

"Try some other words. That sounds like bad movie dialogue." She resumed her prone position.

"OK", Clark said, abashed. He sat silently for a moment while Lana concentrated on her breathing again.

"You are very relaxed….you're here on the blanket….it's nice and warm…your eyes are closing…you feel relaxed and happy…" Clark continued in a quiet, even tone. He looked at Lana; her breathing had slowed more; her heartbeat was strong and steady, and slowing as Clark looked at her.

Clark continued with the voice. "You feel fine…you are relaxed…it's quiet and warm…." He stopped talking as Lana sighed just a bit.

He remembered one test from the book he'd read a few years ago. "Your left arm has a helium balloon attached to it….your left arm feels light….the balloon is lifting your arm…" Clark looked on in amazement as Lana's left arm rose slowly. She really was a good subject.

"Now the balloon is dropping; your arm is going slowly back to your side…" Clark continued the monotone as Lana's arm came back to its normal position. "You feel relaxed but alert….you can respond to questions…you want to stay in this state until you are ready to come out….it feels good…"

"Yes", Lana breathed.

Time to put it to the test. "You know me, Lana", Clark said quietly.

"Yes", she said, apparently still in trance.

"You know my secret now. You have seen me use my abilities."

Lana's breathing sped up just a bit. Clark went back to the monotonous drone. "You feel good…you are relaxed…."

"Yes", she agreed.

"Now think about knowing that I am an alien. Think about me using my powers." Clark was nervous, but held the same tone. "Think about taking all that knowledge, and bundling it up, like putting clothes into a laundry basket."

Lana remained silent for a moment, apparently gathering memories. "Yes", she breathed.

"Now think about putting that laundry basket behind a door. The door is big and strong. It has a knob and a lock. You open the door and set the basket behind the door. The basket is in a strong room and the door is the only way in."

"The only way in", Lana said.

"Now you are holding the key to the lock in your hand. You turn that key. The basket with all the knowledge of my abilities is locked in the strong room, behind the tall door with the big lock."

"It's locked", she said.

"When the basket is locked in the room, you won't know that I am an alien. You won't remember that I have abilities. To you I will just be Clark Kent, a regular guy."

"A regular guy", she breathed.

"You can unlock the door at any time, and remember, and know the truth about me. But sometimes you don't want to unlock the door."

"Yes", Lana said.

"When you are with Lex, you want to put the basket in the room and lock the door."

"With Lex."

"You don't want Lex to know about me. You want Lex to think that Clark Kent is a regular guy."

"Yes." Lana's breathing remained steady, her voice quiet.

"If you are with Lex, or with anyone, and they ask you about me, you'll automatically put all your memories and knowledge about my abilities in the basket."

"I'll put it in the basket", she agreed.

"You won't talk about my abilities, or that I'm an alien. And if someone presses you about it, you'll put the basket in the room and lock the door."

"Lock the door."

"Again, you can unlock the door anytime you want, and take out the basket and know about me, but you won't want to unlock it unless you are in a safe place where you won't tell anyone."

"Yes", Lana breathed.

"You want to keep my secret. You don't want to tell anyone."

"Keep your secret."

Clark couldn't think of something else to say now. He settled for going back to the monotone. "You are relaxed…you are warm and comfortable..." He thought it was time to end the session.

"You feel relaxed…you feel yourself coming up out of the trance…slowly you climb up…you will awaken, feeling refreshed, and remember everything we did here…"

Clark looked on in fascination. As he continued telling Lana to wake up, her heartbeat quickened as did her breathing. The air of total relaxation slowly changed into a more tense, more alert posture, even with her staying prone on the blanket. When he finished with, "When I snap my fingers, you will be fully awake", and snapped his fingers, Lana immediately was the Lana he'd come to know on the trip.

She looked at him and smiled. "I feel good", she said. "That was kind of cool."

"Cool?"

"It was like I could wake up any time, but I didn't want to. And what you were saying really made pictures in my mind."

"Oh", Clark said awkwardly. "Well, I'm glad it worked."

"I want to try it again at least three more times today", Lana said.

"Again?"

"I want to repeat it and repeat it. I figure that'll get it set in my mind."

Clark sat back. _I guess I can't argue with that._ "OK."

They did repeat the hypnosis session, not three, but four times that day, intermixed with taking care of Laura, eating dinner, and washing up before bed.

"I was thinking of trying it out", Lana said.

Clark looked at her in surprise. "What?"

"Let's see if this works."

"How?"

"In the next session, you reinforce what we've already done. Then say something like, "You'll come out of the trance with all your knowledge of Clark's abilities locked away in the basket in the room." Then we can see if it's really working."

Clark thought about it. Probably a good idea. "OK."

It was quite interesting. Lana fell into trance again, even faster this time. Obviously it was one of those things that got better with practice. Clark made the suggestion about locking away her memories of his abilities. Before he woke her, though, he added, "When I snap my fingers, you will unlock the door, take out the basket, and remember."

He gave her the standard coming-out-of-trance routine they'd done several times before. But this time, when Lana woke, she didn't seem all that relaxed. She sat up suddenly, stiffly, casting her eyes around frantically. She caught sight of Clark.

"Clark? What are you doing here? Where am I?"

Clark looked at her, nonplussed. Apparently the memory of him being outed, and using his abilities, was so intertwined with the events of the last days that the whole time period was being censored.

The rising note of panic in Lana's voice drew him from his thoughts. She was looking at her stomach. "Where's my baby? _Where's my baby?" _Her breathing grew fast and ragged; she seemed on the verge of panic.

He couldn't stand it anymore; he snapped his fingers. Comprehension bloomed over Lana's face.

"God, that was weird", she said. Her breathing slowed.

"What was it like?" Clark asked, curious.

"It was like…suddenly I was back at the lake and the last thing I remembered was that the plane crashed. And then I was here, at a different place, and I…wasn't pregnant anymore. And you were here. And it was a big shock."

Lana got up, walked with quick nervous steps.

"Then you snapped your fingers, Clark, and it was so weird. It was like one of those time-lapse photos where you see a flower bud blooming. That's what it felt like in my mind, when I suddenly remembered."

"That does sound weird", Clark agreed carefully.

"Oh God, I don't want to go through that again. Not knowing what happened to my baby…"

Clark got up too, came to her, hugged her. "I think we need to work on the hypnotic suggestion." He walked with her a bit, guided her back to their places by the fire. "How about we add this to the plan?" He wrinkled his brow in thought.

"How about, we add, 'When you put your memories of Clark's origin and abilities in the locked room, you will remember the normal, unremarkable parts of those days. And your mind will fill in seemingly real details of those days. You won't lose pieces of time; the events in the time that passed will seem normal to you, until it's safe to remember everything.'"

Lana seemed a little worried. "Is that implanting false memories?"

"I don't think so. Well, maybe a little. We're asking your mind to take out the fantastic stuff and replace it with mundane, everyday things. So maybe it's just selective memory." Clark sighed. "Heck, we do that every day – do you remember what really happens on a particular day? No, you remember the high points, and if someone asks you what you did that day, you fill it in. Like, "I brushed my teeth", or "I went to dinner". But you don't remember every little detail."

Lana sighed too. "I guess you're right. It still kind of freaks me out."

Clark turned to her and said earnestly, "We don't have to do this. We can stop. I don't want to hurt you."

Lana sat silent for a moment, then said, "No, Clark, I don't want to hurt _you._ And if your secret gets out – if I can't keep quiet about it – it'll be the worst thing in the world for you. I don't want that to happen." She assumed a jauntier tone. "We'll get this hypnotic suggestion thing worked out and I'll be OK."

"Well…OK."

Lana said, "Let's try it again."

"You sure?"

"Yes."

"OK." Lana stretched out on the blanket again. Clark took her hand, held it gently for a moment before letting go. He started in with the droning monotone again. It took longer this time for Lana to relax and enter trance; the previous events had shaken her. Clark kept on droning patiently and finally she was in the suggestible state again.

Clark gave her the suggestions they'd decided on. Again, he asked her to wake up with her memories of his powers locked away. Again, he told her that when Clark snapped his fingers, she would remember.

When Lana woke up this time, she glanced around, but not with the panic she'd had previously. She seemed normal to Clark.

"Lana?" he questioned her.

"Clark?" she replied. "How are we doing with the camping? How's the baby?"

"She's OK", Clark replied cautiously. "Lana…"

"Yes?"

"Why are we here?"

There was a momentary confused look in her eye. "Well, my plane crashed when the pilot died, and you happened to be hiking up in the wilderness and ran into me." She gave him a sharp look. "Don't you remember, Clark? How could you forget that we've been hiking for the past ten days or so? Why are you asking me this now?"

"Um…I was just wondering if you needed to be carried."

"Like you could", she said sarcastically. Then Lana's tone moderated. "I know you've carried me across a few streams, which I appreciate", she said. "But come on, carrying me all the time?"

"What have we been eating?" Clark asked, changing the subject.

"What's the matter with you, Clark?" Lana asked. "You know perfectly well we've been living on those dehydrated meals you brought, and then you caught some fish."

"Don't you want some red meat?" Clark asked, almost mischievously now.

"I would kill for a steak. It's been over two weeks! I'm getting so tired of ramen noodles!" Lana looked at him suspiciously. "Why? Do you have a dehydrated steak in your backpack too?"

"Um, no." Clark looked at her in interest. The hypnotic suggestion seemed to be working. _Time to test it out._

"Um, Lana…."

"Yes, Clark?" She said in an annoyed voice.

"Will you come with me?" he moved over to her and scooped her up in his arms, not giving her a chance to say no.

"Cl--" she began saying, as he blurred into super-speed, running a fair distance down the lake.

"—ark!" Lana finished, looking wide-eyed at the campsite far away in the distance. "How did you do that?" she asked curiously as Clark set her down. "We were right there, and now we're here…" her voice trailed off.

Clark shifted into super-speed again, ran to the campsite, checked on Laura sleeping in the tent, grabbed their cup, ran to the lake, filled the cup with water, and brought it to Lana.

"Ah, Clark…"

He heat-visioned the water and it began boiling. Lana's face turned rigid with fear. "You're one of _them_…." She trembled.

_Time to stop this. _ Clark snapped his fingers. Lana got the same inward-turned, wondering expression he'd seen before.

"Thanks, Clark", she said, shakily. "I was going to go through the whole finding-out thing again. I'm glad you stopped it." She came to him, hugged him tightly.

He embraced her in return, holding her in silence for a moment. Then Clark said, "So it works? You didn't remember anything…odd…about me until I showed off my powers?"

"Yeah. It was really weird – I know I keep saying that, but it is – everything just seemed normal and natural, with the exception of us being stranded in the wilderness. And then you snapped your fingers, and it was like a whole new world opening up."

"That does sound weird."

Lana continued. "You know, it was like….like going back into a cocoon or something. I was back in my old habits of thought, thinking about you, wondering if you were a hidden meteor freak or something. And then you snapped your fingers, and it was like a butterfly coming out of the cocoon, and I knew about you."

"I'm a little worried about your reaction when I used my powers."

Lana grimaced. "Yes. I don't want to go through the whole amazement-horror thing every time."

Clark suggested, "How about we add to the plan again?"

Lana smiled. "It's always the fine print. Batteries not included. Some parts sold separately. And additional hypnotic suggestions are required."

Clark smiled back. "How about we add, if you see me use my powers while you are in that state, you'll remember everything, but then, if you need it to, everything will go back into the locked room?"

"That sounds OK to me." She looked at him in hope. "Clark, I think this is working. Let's do it one more time for practice."

Clark laughed. "OK, but not the test this time. We'll just have you go over the basic suggestions. And then it's time for bed."

"OK."

The last session was in the tent, right before they went to sleep, Clark repeating his words in the droning monotone which had become second nature to him. At the end of this session, though, he said, "You will come out of trance and fall into a deep restful sleep." And she did.

Clark looked at Lana sleeping comfortably on the blanket. She'd never know the temptation he'd faced during the last hypnosis session. He'd wanted so hard to say, "_You want to leave Lex and come to me._" He'd really thought about that a lot. But in the end he didn't say it.


	12. Out of the Wilderness

They woke up the next morning to a cloudy gray sky. So far they'd been lucky in the weather, only having one rain shower, and that a mild one that had been at night when they were in the tent. It looked like a downpour threatened today.

Lana grimaced at the fish on the cooking grill. On one hand, it was extremely fresh, Clark having gone into the lake and caught it literally minutes ago. On the other hand, it would taste a lot better with butter and lemon. They were down to what they could hunt and gather. Frankly, she thought, living off the land was overrated.

"Give me some highly processed food any day", she muttered to herself.

Clark laughed as he heard her muffled comment.

Lana looked up in chagrin. "I'm sorry, Clark. I don't want you to think that I don't appreciate your efforts. I do, and it's really good of you to go out fishing and get all wet. It's just…I'm ready to get back to civilization."

"That makes two of us", he said. "I'm ready for a hamburger and fries anytime now."

"Oooh…" Lana said, "You know, Clark, I'm salivating over the thought of a Quarter Pounder."

"Me too", Clark agreed. "Plus a chocolate shake." He continued. "I really think that today we can get to a city or town. Then we can get you and Laura checked out." He'd been worried about that; he wanted them to have proper medical care. Clark looked up at the sky. "And from the way that sky looks, we'd better get going soon before the rain starts."

Lana looked up and agreed. She quickly finished her fish breakfast, and finished nursing Laura. She tied up the halter-type bandeau she wore, and buttoned her blouse. (Her brassieres didn't fit her _at all _ right now, and she'd been desperate for some sort of support. This was the best thing she could come up with the materials she had.) She and Clark did their morning ablutions. Clark packed up the campsite and scooped her up as usual.

They were silent as he ran; both considered what they would do when they were back in the company of others. Clark found himself fatalistic about his secret; either Lana would be able to keep it (aided by hypnotic suggestion) or she wouldn't. In either case, he'd done all he could do. He felt that Lana cared about him enough that she wouldn't voluntarily tell the secret, and hopefully the hypnosis would guard against the unconscious betrayal. Right now he was more concerned about getting Lana and the baby to safety. It had been a "Survivor"-type experience but now it was time to get home.

Lana found herself ready to get back home, back to regular meals and warm soft beds, but she would regret losing the closeness with Clark. It had been a magical interlude, close companionship with him. Despite the initial fear and horror, she didn't regret learning his secret. She thought about how much he had done for her, and wanted to reciprocate. The best thing she could do would be to protect the knowledge of Clark's origin and powers.

Lana thought about the strange mental feeling she had when she hid her knowledge of Clark's secret, and how she had honed and practiced that feeling. Even now, secure in Clark's arms, she could feel herself reaching for the proper mental state to trigger the concealment. Every time she did this odd mental practice, it became easier.

Laura squirmed in her carrier, bringing Lana back from her thoughts. That was out of the ordinary; Laura usually slept while Clark ran, apparently lulled to sleep by the regular motion, the warmth, and the closeness of Clark and Lana's heartbeats.

Lana looked up – the forest was thinning. It was odd, really; they'd been in the sea of green, with only minor clearings, so long that now it felt almost abnormal to see open country.

"We're getting to the edge of the forest, aren't we?" she asked.

Clark said, "Get ready for some major speed pretty soon." He sounded happy. "I'll let you know. When I give you the word, I want you to turn your head inward towards my chest. That'll protect your eyes."

"Oh", Lana said. She hadn't really thought about that.

They came to the edge of the forest; they were definitely into open country now. Clark gave a small smile; Lana could feel a change in his running rhythm. Then Laura began to cry.

"We'd better make a pit stop", Lana said. Clark slowed down.

"OK."

He put her down; she fed Laura, burped her, changed her. Clark hovered around like he usually did. When Lana handed him the dirty diaper (as usual), this time he didn't put it away in the plastic bag for cleaning later on that night as he usually did. Lana saw him blur away, then come back a few minutes later holding a clean, dry diaper.

"Clark!"

He looked abashed. "I just ran back to the lake to clean it."

Lana couldn't really yell at him for that, despite her nervousness about being left alone.

Clark pointed off in the distance. "There's a highway that way." _You could walk there if you had to, if something happened to me_, he thought. He could tell Lana had the same thought.

Changing the subject, Clark looked up at the sky. Definitely grayer and more threatening. "Lana, I don't like to hurry you, but I think we're going to get caught in the rain."

She took her attention from Laura for a moment, looked up. A frown crossed her face. "You're right." At that very moment, a light drizzle began. Lana gave a rueful smile.

"Speak of the devil…" She fumbled with the makeshift diaper and safety pins. Clark was about to offer to do it himself, in super-speed, but was glad he hadn't said anything when Lana finished it in a shorter time than he would have thought possible.

The drizzle changed to a pounding rain. Clark stared in dismay; this storm was serious, and getting worse fast. And Lana and the baby were both getting wet. _Let's get them to shelter ASAP, Clark_, he told himself.

Lana fumbled with the baby carrier, but soon had it arranged to their satisfaction. Clark picked her up again, tensed his muscles to run. A loud thunderclap startled him, disrupted his preparations. Laura began to cry, frightened by the noise. The rain drummed down harder – it was turning into a real summer thunderstorm.

Clark said to Lana, "Ready?" Another thunderclap drowned out his words. He looked over in concern as a lightning bolt touched down. By force of habit, he counted seconds between the lightning and the next thunderclap. He frowned; there was hardly any time between.

_Time to get moving._ Clark figured that he could outrun the storm with a little time spent in super-speed. He gave Lana a reassuring smile, scooped her up. "Turn your head", he said belatedly, realizing he was about to set off with Lana facing outward, her eyes exposed to the almost supersonic speeds he could attain.

Lana obediently put her head on his chest, holding Laura in the "V" formed between their bodies. She flinched as another thunderclap boomed. Laura was howling now, obviously unhappy.

Clark looked around in concern. That last lightning strike was entirely too close. It was definitely time to get out of Dodge.

He set off running. To him, the raindrops stopped falling; Laura's cry cut off; Lana's heartbeat slowed to nothing; she and the baby were frozen statues in his arms. The eerie surreality of the world when he moved in superspeed always reminded him of a Dali painting.

Clark ran. In a moment too short to be perceived by normal human time senses, he was at the highway. He got onto the highway, began running. He brushed past raindrops suspended in mid-air, a thicker curtain than he'd expected. This storm ranked right up there with some of the summer thunderstorms he'd lived through in Kansas. Apprehensively, he glanced upward at the threatening clouds.

An ozone-like odor and a strange feeling to the air were his only warning signs. Despite his super-speed, electricity moved faster still. With malign fate, almost as if it were searching for him, a bolt of lightning speared the running figure. The electrical discharge traveled through him, and then through Lana and the baby. Clark fell out of super-speed, gasping for breath. An eldritch blue aura outlined them for a moment as the lightning hit. He could feel Lana convulsing in his arms.

. Frantically he looked at Lana and the baby, slipping in and out of X-ray vision, desperate to find if they had been injured. Laura seemed to be OK; he could see her heart beating strongly. Clark quickly turned to Lana, scanning her unconscious form.

_Oh God. _Lana wasn't breathing. Clark took another quick glance at her heart. He'd heard of this before but he'd never seen it. Instead of the forceful, coordinated beat it should have had, the heart muscle writhed and squirmed, looking like a bag of worms. _It's ventricular fibrillation, _he remembered, having done a lot of research on cardiac conditions after his father's heart attack. The next line in the medical textbook came to him. _If the arrhythmia occurs for more than a few seconds, blood circulation will cease and death will occur. _

Moving as quickly as he dared, Clark set Lana down, and threw off his backpack. He removed the baby carrier and set Laura to the side. Panicking, he tried to remember the basics of the Red Cross class he'd taken one summer. He grabbed at half-recalled facts. Then he mentally thanked the instructor who'd given him a simple way to remember.

"_It's A-B-C. Airway, Breathing, Circulation."_

Clark went over it quickly. A for Airway – he opened her mouth, did the oral sweep with his finger. Lana wasn't choking, had an open airway with no obstructions. No problem there.

B for Breathing – she wasn't. He quickly tipped her head back, put his mouth to her, gave her a rescue breath. He realized that what breath remained to her was actually hot. Later he realized that the lightning had heated the air within her lungs.

C for Circulation – there was a big problem. Her heart had stopped. Clark frantically x-rayed it – still fibrillating. He momentarily panicked. _I need an electrical defibrillator. I don't have one. What to do? _Clark got ready to start CPR, not knowing what else to do, then remembered one thing he'd read long ago, one day, when he'd been surfing the Web and messing around on Wikipedia. _The precordial thump. _The textbook words came back to him.

"_A **precordial thump** is a medical procedure used in the initial response to a witnessed cardiac arrest when no defibrillator is immediately available. About 25 of patients in cardiac arrest who received a thump on the precordium regained cardiac function. To perform a precordial thump, a highly trained provider such as a paramedic or physician strikes a single very carefully aimed blow with the fist to the center of the patient's sternum. The intent is to possibly interrupt a heart-damaging rhythm. The precordial thump is thought to produce an electrical depolarization of 2 to 5 Joules. However, the thump is effective only if used at the onset of ventricular fibrillation or pulseless ventricular tachycardia and so should be used only when the arrest is witnessed or monitored."_

Clark dithered for just a moment, worried about damaging Lana further. He wasn't a highly trained medical provider, he thought desperately. Then Clark realized he had to do it. Hurriedly, he raised her shirt, seeing strange fernlike branching red markings on her skin. He ripped off her halter brassiere, felt for her breastbone. Finding the center, he drew in a deep breath. Guessing at the right amount of strength to use, and sending up a prayer, he flicked with his finger. Her body recoiled from the blow.

Clark stared at her, frantic with worry. Then he gave a deep sigh of relief as he saw Lana's heart shudder back into rhythm, begin beating once again. Clark tipped her head back, gave her another rescue breath. He had to do it once again; then suddenly she gave a gasp, coughed, and began breathing on her own. Clark picked her up, held her close, oblivious of the drenching rain and the dirt on the side of the road, shaking with fear at Lana being so close to death.

With a screech of brakes, a pickup truck stopped, its tires spraying them with water from the quick stop. Clark looked up in surprise.

"Are you all right?" A concerned man got out of the cab, ran to them.

"We were hit by lightning", Clark blurted out. He didn't want to let Lana go. He could feel her heart, her breathing; she was unconscious.

The driver looked at Laura, crying in her carry sling, lying next to the roadway. "What about her?"

Clark couldn't answer.

The driver, a stocky, middle-aged man, said decisively, "Let's get you to a hospital." The man picked up Laura. Clark, dazed, allowed the man to guide him to the cab of the pickup. He climbed in, still holding Lana. The driver put Laura down on the seat between them; Clark spared a hand to hold her.

"It's only a few more miles to the town", said the man, a determined expression on his face. He put the truck in gear and drove off. Clark checked the speedometer – the driver certainly wasn't sparing the horses. Rain-drenched landscape zoomed by as they sped into town.

Clark focused on Lana, concerned about her ragged breathing. He frowned as he X-rayed her again; the lightning strike had definitely damaged her lungs. At least her heart rhythm seemed stable now.

Their Good Samaritan pulled up at the emergency entrance of a small regional hospital. Shouting, clearing the way, the man led them into the ER. There, concerned medical personnel took Lana from Clark's arms and rushed her in for treatment; another group gathered around Laura.

Clark stood, slowly coming out of his daze. Unfortunately, he'd spent enough time in the Smallville Medical Center and other hospitals to be familiar with emergency procedures. _Just another episode_, he thought bitterly. He always seemed to be bringing in, or visiting, someone he cared about.

"You all right, buddy?" A hand clapped his shoulder. Clark looked, startled, into the eyes of the pickup driver who'd taken them to the hospital. He remembered his manners.

"I'm fine", he said. "Thank you so much." Clark shook the man's hand, trying to put the gratitude he felt into his words. "I can't tell you how much I appreciate it."

"I hope that everyone does well", the man said. Clark was about to say more when a nurse came to him.

"Sir? We need to get some information from you—" Clark turned around to thank his rescuer once again, but the man was walking out the door. _I never even got his name_, Clark thought.


	13. In The Hospital

Clark sat in a chair by Lana's bed, holding her hand. She lay unconscious, hooked up to tubes, IV's, and monitoring devices. At intervals, nurses would come in and check her or do some sort of treatment. It had been several hours since Lana came in, but she hadn't woken up yet. He sighed, X-raying her yet again. He was really getting to know her anatomy.

_I prefer the way I got to know it before_, he thought, remembering their few short months of romance. _I'd rather not get to know it by x-raying her to see how her heart and lung damage is doing. _Clark did feel cautiously optimistic, however; he was no doctor, but based on repeating viewings, her organ pathology wasn't growing any worse.

Clark thought back to his conversation with the emergency room doctor. The physician, a middle-aged man with tired eyes, said, "Hopefully we can get her through the initial trauma. That would be the heart damage, the lung damage, heat injury, skin burns, stuff like that. You probably saw the red marks on the skin. Those are lightning burns. We think the lightning actually heats up the blood in the capillaries…" He took a sip from what looked like a very cold and stale cup of coffee. Clark had a feeling that the doctor was very tired and was saying more than he actually intended.

"She's certainly got some lung damage from the heating of the air in her lungs by the lightning strike. But that should resolve in a few days."

Clark, happy to hear that, gave the doctor a nod and then made a questioning noise, indicating the doctor should go on.

"But, Mr. Kent, you should know, a lot of bad stuff still can happen. Sometimes we don't know the full extent of the damage for weeks. Sometimes years." The doctor sat down wearily on a chair in the hall. Clark sat down next to him.

"Years?" Clark parroted.

"Oh, yes. Sometimes people struck by lightning get cataracts years later…" the doctor mumbled, looking down at his coffee cup, only now realizing how cold and unappetizing it was.

"I just hope there isn't brain damage", the doctor said.

Clark sat very still. "Brain damage?" he asked.

"Well, getting fried by lightning isn't actually the best thing in the world for a sensitive organ like the brain. We worry about seizures, strokes, memory loss, long-term subtle damage that we really can't quantify right away." Then the doctor sat up straighter, reacted to Clark's expression. He grimaced as he realized that maybe he was being a little too honest for Clark's peace of mind.

The doctor put a confident tone into his voice. "But, the best thing is, she's still alive so far, and she's not getting worse. You got her here in time, and I really think she has a good chance now." He gave Clark an encouraging smile, obviously trying to put a positive spin on the information.

Clark would have felt better if he hadn't looked back and seen the doctor surreptitiously crossing his fingers and knocking on the wooden paneling in the hallway.

* * *

_I should go check on Laura again, _he thought. Laura, also unconscious, had been moved to the nursery. Technically, since he wasn't next of kin or her legal guardian, he had no right to see her. But since he'd brought her in, the hospital gave tacit permission. Clark had gone to see Laura; she seemed to be OK, only sleeping.

Clark made no move to get up, though, wanting to stay by Lana. The dark room was lit only by the graphs and figures on Lana's monitors; the eerie, flickering light cast strange shadows on her face.

"Lana", he said softly, talking to her, hoping she could hear him in her altered state of consciousness. "I think Laura is going to be OK." He paused, squeezed her hand gently. "I hope you'll be OK too."

Clark moved his chair closer to her, took her hand in both of his. He really didn't know what to say. "Do you remember the days on the trail? You were getting tired of ramen noodles. And I caught some fish for you? And you don't like fish all that much either?" He rubbed her arm, massaged it.

Clark heard a change in the nurse-and-aide voices out at the nursing station down the hall. He'd tried not to listen to them ever since he'd heard them gossiping about his presence there with Lana Luthor. They'd obviously read the tabloids and had heard about the infamous Luthor-Kent-Lang love triangle. It was titillating to be in the actual presence of two of the three actors in that messy scandal. Clark mentally cursed the tabloids once again.

The hospital staff kept their voices low, even though he was far down the hall in Lana's room. But if Clark extended his hearing at all, he could hear them speculating about him, about her, about Lex. It was just too juicy a topic to leave alone. Some of the comments about himself brought blushes to his face – the nurses got coolly clinical when they discussed his anatomy. _At least the comments are favorable. So far_, Clark thought.

"Laura is a fighter. She'll do OK." Clark's voice caught as he stared at Lana's unconscious form. "You were a fighter too. You had her out in the wilderness with no one to help you…." He left himself out of the picture, feeling he hadn't done much.

A small noise behind him alerted him. He'd been concentrating on Lana, trying not to listen to the gossip out in the hall. A figure strode into the room, stared at Lana on her bed. It turned to look at Clark.

"Clark", Lex said.

Clark stood warily, releasing Lana's hand, laying it on the bed next to her body. "Lex", he said, in the same guarded tone. He really didn't feel like answering questions. But he knew Lex would have plenty.

Lex went around the bed, sat in the other chair, touched Lana's forehead. Clark waited, not moving, as Lex took Lana's hand, stroked it, then laid it back down on the bed. Lex got up, came to the end of the bed, picked up Lana's chart and looked at it. He turned to face Clark.

"Well, Clark", Lex said. "I hear you brought Lana in. How did that happen anyway?" So far, only polite interest in his tone.

Clark debated internally how much to say. _As little as possible._ "Kind of a coincidence, Lex", he said, trying to match the other's cool tone. "I happened to be hiking, and ran into Lana after her plane had crashed. She said that the pilot died. We hiked out. She had the baby on the way." Lex's face momentarily twisted. "We were close to town, and got caught in a storm. She and the baby were struck by lightning. Fortunately, the hospital was close by."

Lex stood still, not speaking for a moment. "Well, I guess I owe you a big thank-you for escorting her." He gave an insincere smile. "

_More than you know. _"You're welcome, Lex", Clark said, just as insincerely.

"But you know, Clark", Lex said in his tone of false affability, "there are so many statements there that seem, oh, I don't know, just so fantastic. Or maybe we could say, _far-fetched._"

"It's the truth", Clark said tightly.

"Ah, but what is truth?" said Lex. "Pontius Pilate said that and he never got an answer either." He stared Clark directly in the eyes, challenging. "For instance, you just _happened_ to go hiking?"

"I decided to go for some time alone after your wedding", Clark said evenly.

"And you just _happened _to run into Lana?" More incredulity in Lex's voice.

"Just lucky, I guess." Clark wondered why he was staying here, taking Lex's sneering half-accusations. He'd walked out on a Lex cross-examination several times in the past. _I'm not going till Lana's awake. _

"Maybe you can tell me where you found her. We'll want to locate the plane and give the pilot a decent burial."

Clark stood, taken aback for a moment. He'd forgotten about the pilot. _He's right. The man deserves a memorial. _Then he made his decision. "Well, I'd like to, Lex, but I left my backpack by the side of the road when I was getting Lana to the hospital. It's missing now, and all my maps and GPS were in it. I don't think I could retrace our steps." He gave Lex a tight smile. "Sorry."

Lex's eyes narrowed. "Well, it couldn't have been very far." Making another outwardly innocent but provocative statement, he continued, "How far could Lana walk in a day, in her condition?"

"Not much", Clark agreed, smiling inwardly. Then his amusement vanished. _I have to tell him. _ "By the way, Lex, your daughter was born ten days ago." _**Your**__ daughter. If it's true…that's hard to say._

"I have a daughter…" Lex said in a wondering tone for just a moment.

"Lana named her Laura, after her mother", Clark continued. _Not a Luthor name. I think Lana didn't want to name her after your mother, not after hearing what your mother did to her own son Julian._ "She's in the nursery. Don't you want to go see her?"

Lex looked undecided for a moment. Then he went to the door and summoned one of his escorts. "William, my daughter is in the nursery. See if you can bring her here."

Clark looked with interest at the business-suited security guy. This was one he didn't know. He'd gotten to know most of them when he was friends with Lex, but Lex seemed to have a fairly high turnover in his security department. Maybe it was related to his habit of treating his staff like crap. Lex only seemed to give them threats and snide comments, constantly pointing out their screw-ups. He didn't compliment them on the good job they did the other 99 of the time. People would only put up with that for so long, no matter how high the pay, Clark thought. In passing, Clark wondered if that was why Lex seemed to have so many security breaches at the mansion.

As William approached the door of Lana's room, Clark felt a familiar twinge of nausea. Alarmed, he looked more closely at Lex's security guy. The tall man had a small meteor-rock tiepin. Clark sat, not moving, in the chair by Lana's bed, hoping the man would not enter the room, would not come closer. Clark didn't want to vomit or pass out or fall to the ground in a fetal position, all of which he'd done before when exposed to kryptonite. He especially didn't want to do anything odd in front of Lex's sharp eyes.

Lex strode back into the room, near Lana in the bed again. Then both of them turned toward the bed as Lana made a noise. Clark couldn't help but X-ray her; he noted increases in activity, heart rate, a change in breathing tempo.

"She's waking up", Clark said softly. Anxiety suffused him. Would Lana be OK? If she was OK, would she tell his secret? He mentally chided himself for thinking about that when Lana's life was still in the balance, but he couldn't help worrying about it. Clark hoped that the hypnotic suggestion would hold, but getting hit by lightning…what would that do?

He and Lex both headed for the bed. Both took a chair, Clark on the right, Lex on the left.

Lana rustled under her bedcovers. Her arm moved weakly. She tossed her head from side to side on the pillow. Lex took her hand in his own. She struggled, pulled it out of his grasp.

"Clark?" she asked hazily.

Clark sat uncomfortably, then took her hand. Lex shot him a look of pure venom.

Lana's eyes opened. She looked at Clark holding her hand first. Then she turned her head and saw Lex.

"Lex!" She pulled her hand out of Clark's.

"Where am I?" she said in a hoarse voice, throat obviously sore. Lana turned her head in all directions, taking in the obvious hospital décor. "What is Clark doing here?"

Lex gave a tiny smile. Clark's stomach dropped out from under him. _This is __**not**__ the way Lana sounded before the lightning hit. _

"Don't you remember, Lana?" Clark asked her. "We were hiking out of the wilderness after your plane crashed. You were hit by lightning and I brought you to the hospital."

Lana lifted her arm, dragged it across her eyes. "Hit by lightning?" she asked incredulously. The IV line impeded her, and her arm fell back to the bed. "The last thing I remember is packing up at the lodge."

Clark couldn't keep a slightly desperate tone from entering his voice. "Then you don't remember having the baby?"

Lana got a panicky look. She struggled, sat up. She lifted the sheets and looked at her stomach, rubbed it with her palm. "The baby!" She began hyperventilating, then coughing, despite her nasal oxygen cannula. Frantically she gestured towards an emesis basin; Clark handed it to her; she coughed up a wad of mucusy sputum. Clark, alarmed, saw a tinge of blood in it.

"Lana, calm down", Clark said, trying to remain calm himself. "You had the baby in the wilderness after the plane crashed. You had a little girl and you named her Laura. She's here in the hospital now."

Slowly Lana's breathing eased. "A girl…" she said slowly. "Is she OK?"

"She's fine", Clark reassured her.

Lana stared at Clark suspiciously. "Why are you here again?"

Clark couldn't answer. Stunned realization stole his breath; sadness clenched his throat. _Lana didn't remember anything. _He could tell when people were lying; he picked up on subtle changes in pulse, respiration, muscle activity – just like a polygraph. Lana had none of those changes. She believed what she was saying, and that was asking him why he was there in a room with her and her husband. Why he was here, the third wheel, when she and Lex were supposed to be alone together.

Their time together in the forest, her gradual acceptance of him, the shared joy of getting to know Laura, the easy conversation, the day-to-day life of routine chores done together, the sense of relief he had at finally confessing to her – all that was gone. Obliterated. Erased. It never happened.

Somehow, Clark knew she'd be OK but for the loss of the memory of their time together. Bitterly, he just assumed that it would work out that way. Their relationship had been marked with so many strange coincidences, so many weird happenings, so many malign twists of fate, that there was no other possible way it could be. She'd go back to her uncomfortable suspicions. She'd see him as the ex-boyfriend with trust issues, the one who was always lying to her. Clark actually felt faint as he realized that if he wanted Lana to know, he'd have to tell her his secret all over again, deal with her fear and horror…

His eyesight blurred as tears welled up. He tried to control them, uncomfortably aware that Lex was watching him intently.

It came as a relief when someone knocked at the open door.

"Mr. Luthor", the security man said. "We brought the baby." A nurse entered the room, wheeling a bassinet holding Laura, as the security man waited at the door. Lex, Lana, and Clark all turned to look. A wide smile crossed Lex's face; a strange expression to Clark who was used to seeing Lex give sardonic smiles, cynical smiles, false smiles, calculating smiles, but never the smile of unalloyed joy Lex wore right now.

Lana looked confused yet eager; her hand stole down to her flat abdomen again, a wondering expression on her face. She moved her hands up to her breasts; Clark, turning back to her saw the bedcovers become wet with milk leaking out. He looked back at Laura, just in time to see Lex pick her up from the bassinet, and gently hold her in his arms, over his shoulder. For a moment Lex almost looked tender. Laura squirmed a little in his arms, began crying.

Clark came closer, unable to stop himself. Lex's body language changed slightly; he stood more hunched up, holding Laura closer, turning slightly away from Clark. Laura opened her eyes and saw him. She stopped crying, gave a satisfied gurgle. Lex changed her position so that she was over his other shoulder; more to the point, this kept Clark from seeing her and vice versa. Laura began fussing again, oblivious to Lex's patting her on the back.

"Well, Clark", said Lex in a tone with only a little triumph in it, "thank you for all you've done. Now, if you don't mind, we'd like to have a little private family reunion here…"

_And don't let the door hit you in the ass on the way out_, Clark mentally added.

Clark took one last despairing look around the hospital room. This was bitter. He stared at Lana, the Lana who knew him and loved him once, but no longer did. He looked at the nurse, who should be going back to the nursing station but was hanging around, no doubt to collect more gossip. He looked at the security guard; the man stood in an alert posture, awaiting possible instructions from Lex. Clark looked at Lex and the baby last; Lex stood, holding _his _daughter tightly, keeping her from Clark.

"My plane will take you back to Smallville, Clark", Lex said, outwardly polite, twisting the knife."

Clark turned his back on Lex, Lana, and Laura. As he walked out the door, he said tightly, "No thanks, Lex, I'll find my own way back." Clark took a steady, measured stride. He managed to keep his rhythm and avoid stumbling as he passed the security guy with the kryptonite tiepin, keeping a stone face that showed no sign of the pain within.

Clark walked down the hall, past the nurses at the station, ignoring their covert stares and whispers. He walked slowly through the corridors of the hospital, thinking over and over of what he could have done. What? Rip Laura from Lex's grasp? Kidnap Lana and the baby? If he still had Lana on his side….but that Lana was gone.

The blue-haired elderly volunteer at the main hospital entrance wished him a good afternoon as he pushed open the doors; he returned the greeting without really seeing her. He exited the hospital, staring up at the cloudless blue sky, so different from the cloudy gray sky that had blasted his hopes.

Once he got outside, Clark went to a secluded area. Carefully scanning the area for witnesses, he saw none. He went into super-speed.

He ran all the way back to the lake where he'd found Lana before he gave way to his tears.


	14. Coming Home

Clark sat on the lake shore, doing nothing, watching the twilight. He really had no desire to do anything; the emotional shocks of the day left him with an enervating lassitude. Idly, he focused his vision in the forest, trying to find where he'd hung up the bear meat. As he'd expected, it had been eaten by now.

Next he scanned the lake, trying to decide if he wanted to bother catching and cooking a fish. Clark sat back uncomfortably as he found the downed plane again. Then responsibility nagged at him. _I should try and bury the pilot or something. _He regretted not doing something earlier; at first, he'd been worried about what the shock of seeing the dead pilot would do to Lana in her late pregnancy; after that, with all the excitement and then the daily chores of travel, he'd forgotten.

Clark welcomed the duty; anything to take his mind from its brooding. He walked to the lake, waded in, swam to the plane. The lake was cool, but it was the sight of the pilot's skeleton that gave Clark a momentary shiver. By now, the fish had eaten the entire unexpected windfall; the pilot was down to clean bones, wrapped in clothing. The shirt and pants had held up well in the cool water.

He wondered if the pilot had really died of a heart attack, as Lana thought, or if this was part of some bizarre plot aimed at Lex Luthor via Lana and the baby. The lack of the transponder signal, and how Lana was so far off the filed flight plan…It was too late to autopsy the pilot, that was for sure. No way of telling now.

Clark could give directions to bring people back to the site to examine the plane – but that might bring on curiosity about how he and Lana had traveled so far in such a short time. Clark considered telling Lionel, then shook his head. Lionel couldn't examine this alone, and no matter whoever he sent, there would be talk. Thanks to the tabloids, the whole world knew that Clark had rescued Lana from the wilderness. Besides, he knew Lex and Lionel, knew their paranoid ways. They'd probably already considered this possibility and were investigating it. _And if Lex isn't investigating it out of paranoia, then he's investigating it because I'm involved in it_, Clark thought bitterly.

Clark surfaced to take a breath, then dove back down. Opening the plane door, he gently scooped up the pilot's remains and carefully took them back to shore. Once on shore, he laid them down, and checked the pockets. The trousers contained a small billfold; the lake water hadn't done any favors to its contents, but the driver's license was still readable. Examination of other pockets revealed only a pocketknife, some loose change, a waterlogged small notebook, and what looked like a house key and a car key.

A flash of light reflecting off the pilot's neck caught Clark's attention; he picked up the dog tags that glinted in the evening sun. Gently, he removed them from the corpse.

He gave the remains one last X-ray to be sure he wasn't missing anything. It was odd seeing the skeleton through X-ray vision without going through the flesh around it, Clark realized. He'd gotten used to adjusting the depth of his probing vision to the live human form, going through fat, muscle, and connective tissue. This was different. The force of his vision actually burned through the bones, making them look oddly misty to his sight, before he dialed it back a notch.

He debated cremating the remains, decided against it. He wanted to work, to forget his cares in physical labor. Clark went to the forest and dug a grave, the regulation six feet long and six feet deep. He didn't speed, offering up the time and labor as a gift to the soul of the dead pilot. Reverently, he went back to the lakeshore and picked up the bones. He laid them in earth, then quickly filled the grave. He stood over the mound of disturbed soil and quietly said as much as he could remember of the service for the dead. The piney scent filled his nostrils as the sun slipped under the horizon.

He looked again at the lake, thought about the remaining oil and gas in the plane. _Maybe it's a little late, _he thought, _but I can still help this lake. _ Clark went in the lake, dragged out the plane. There wasn't enough room on the shore, so he broke the plane up into small pieces, piling them near the forest. At least this way they wouldn't pollute the water.

Clark spent that night at the lake, not sleeping, just thinking. The next morning he got up, washed, and bitterly regretted his lack of a toothbrush. He made do with a chewed-up twig. He pulled out the pilot's driver's license again, looked around at the lake one last time, sighed, then sped away.

* * *

He met Chloe back in his barn. Tiny straw particles floated, visible in the golden sunbeam coming through the open door. The heat wave had broken, and it was a beautiful summer day in Kansas.

"Clark!" Chloe ran to greet him, hugged him. "What took you so long? I heard that Lana _miraculously _survived a plane crash and a wilderness trek." She gave him a significant glance. "_And _I know that Lex made an urgent trip to a small Canadian hospital two days ago!"

Clark sighed. Trust Chloe to keep up on all that. "I made a side trip to deliver some items."

Chloe gave him a questioning look.

"Lana's plane crashed because the pilot died", Clark explained. "I went up to where he was, collected his personal effects, and took them to his family. I had to go to Saskatoon."

"But that wouldn't take you all that long, would it?" Chloe said.

"When I brought them the items, his wife insisted I stay for the afternoon and have some coffee. I could tell she wanted to talk. The family came in, and they fed me coffee and muffins. Mrs. Smith told me about her husband, and how he became a pilot, and the flights that he made, and what kind of a man he was."

Clark sighed as he remembered that awkward afternoon. It brought back too many painful memories of his own loss, but, knowing the widow's situation, he couldn't bring himself to stop her from telling everything she needed to say about the man she'd lost. It helped to tell someone; he knew that.

"She was glad to hear about her husband. She was really worried because he'd been missing for so long. She said that she knew something bad had happened; they were married for thirty-eight years and she could just feel that something was wrong." Clark swallowed, wondering what his mother had felt at his father's passing. "It was hard to hear that he was gone, but at least this way she knew."

"Luthorcorp hadn't told her?" Chloe asked, incredulous.

"No. I was the first one to tell her."

"Typical Luthorcorp", Chloe growled. "I bet they try and scam the widow out of workman's comp, or whatever, too." Then she looked at Clark. "Did you talk at this meeting at all?"

"I told them the story of how Lana and I got out." He grimaced. "Suitably edited, of course."

Chloe's eyes narrowed. "What really happened, Clark?" she asked quietly. She knew something was off. She hadn't seen him this depressed since the stopping-the-nuclear-missile incident where he'd been shot, died, and lost his chance to be human.

Clark didn't say anything. Touching him lightly on the arm, Chloe asked again, "Can you tell me?"

Clark motioned for her to go up to the loft. He followed her, and they sat down on his comfortable old couch. Shelby came up too, and Clark petted him absently as he took a deep breath.

"Lana found out my secret, Chloe", he said.

Chloe goggled. _"What?"_

"What a coincidence. It was downright weird", Clark said bitterly. "Appropriate for Smallville, of course. But this wasn't Smallville. It was only that the pilot had been to Smallville. Once."

"And?"

"And he liked to fish, and he made a sinker out of kryptonite. And Lana pulled it out of the tackle box, and I got sick, and she figured it out."

"Oh, Clark…" Chloe said softly. A pause, then she said, "Not that I haven't urged you to tell her in the past, but now that she's married to the spawn of Satan, it seems like a really bad time."

"Yeah." Clark stared at the floor. He took another deep breath, turned to look at Chloe.

"She was pretty scared for about a day." Clark gave Chloe a rueful smile. "You took it much better."

"I had a few months to get over it before you admitted it to me", Chloe said. "Right after I saw you catch that car, I was pretty scared too."

She was sorry she'd said that when she saw a look of pain cross Clark's face. She knew that Clark didn't want people afraid of him; that was one of the big reasons he hid his abilities. Frightening people by just being who he was, frightening them with his abilities, just made him feel more inhuman, more of an outsider, _alien._ Chloe thought back to the time when he'd admitted his heritage to her; she'd been flabbergasted, and, she had to admit, a little frightened. Clark had looked at her, looked away, and said with a sad expression, _"I'm still the same person."_ Remembering his lonely voice at that time almost made her cry.

Chloe tried to smooth over her faux pas; changing the subject, she said, "About a day?"

"Yes. Then we were able to talk. We had a long talk, and she decided she could accept it. We were going to go out the next morning, but then she had the baby." Clark closed his eyes as he thought about Laura.

Chloe thought about saying something, closed her mouth with a snap.

"That delayed us some. But I was still able to make pretty good time carrying her and the baby through the woods. We really got to know each other well, Chloe…" the sad longing in his voice sent chills down her spine.

Clark straightened up, squared his shoulders. "Then, we were almost safe – almost home – and we got hit by lightning."

Chloe paled. "God, Clark – are you OK?"

Clark gave a bitter laugh. "I'm fine, Chloe. It's Lana that was hurt. Well, maybe me too. Because the lightning strike erased the last two weeks of her memory. She doesn't remember getting to know about me. She doesn't remember all the time we spent together after she found out." Clark thought about that. Was it true? Or was the hypnotic suggestion holding strong? He didn't know. Lana had been conscious in his presence only when Lex was there. Clark wondered when he would be able to speak with Lana alone.

Chloe sat in silence for a moment, thinking about what would have happened if she hadn't had that long talk with Clark after he'd disclosed his secret to her. Just knowing he had powers was scary – who knew what he'd do? But talking with him, getting the history, even though Clark habitually downplayed his role – that's what let you know what a good guy he was. That's what made you confident that he wouldn't misuse his powers, that he wouldn't hurt anyone, only help. To lose all that…

"At least the baby's OK. Lana named her Laura after her mother." Clark avoided Chloe's eyes as he reached down and petted Shelby again. He debated telling Chloe about his suspicions. Could he be Laura's father? It was a big thing to tell, that was for sure. Clark thought about it some more. Would Chloe be able to help him get information about what to do for a custody battle? She certainly knew his concerns about DNA testing. Lost in thought, Clark remained silent.

"Um, Clark?" Chloe's voice was tentative.

"Yes?"

"You haven't read the papers today, have you?"

"No." He looked up at Chloe's face, uneasy at the tone in her voice. "Why?"

"The baby's dead." Chloe said it flatly.

_"Dead?"_ Clark couldn't believe she'd said that. Laura, dead? How could that be? Was this some sort of sick joke?

"The _Daily Planet_ said it was delayed injury from a lightning strike. They said she was fine for awhile, and then fifteen minutes later she had pulmonary edema and heart failure, and she died right away. They couldn't save her."

Clark's hand froze on Shelby's head. A roaring filled his head. He could barely hear Chloe say, "Actually, usually the Luthors are better at covering up stuff like this, but since it happened in that remote hospital far away from Metropolis and their usual haunts, they didn't have as tight control over the media as usual." She went on to say something about sources, but Clark couldn't understand.

Dead? How could Laura be dead? How could her dark eyes be closed? He wouldn't see her scrunch up her nose again, or screw her fists into her eyes as she screamed for a diaper change. He wouldn't hear that high-pitched shriek, at first dreaded for its sleep-disrupting properties, then endured, its volume increasing as Laura grew older and stronger.

Clark grabbed a steel ball bearing sitting on the table next to the couch, part of the tractor-fixing job he had yet to finish. Angrily, he threw it with all his might at the barn wall. A smoking hole in the wall and a small crater in the farmyard were the only evidence of its flight. Chloe stopped babbling on about Luthor media control and gasped.

Clark's anger transmuted into grief. _I shouldn't have left her…I left her alone to die…_He put his head in his hands.

"Clark?" Chloe asked softly.

"I knew her. I _knew _her. Now I'm the only one", Clark said wretchedly. "Lex wasn't there, Lana doesn't remember. I'm the only one that can remember her life." He looked up at Chloe. "She was so perfect…"

He sat in the barn, staring at nothing, for hours after Chloe left.

* * *

The funeral was well-attended, although Clark would be willing to bet that not one of the so-called mourners present was actually Lex's friend. They were just business associates, or contacts of some sort. Lana might actually have some friends attending, but in her time with Lex she'd gradually fallen out of touch with many of her previous acquaintances.

Clark walked past the Luthorcorp Security guards holding the paparazzi at bay, nodding to the friends on the security staff he'd made back when he still saw Lex on a regular basis, ignoring the camera flashes and shouted requests for comment.

He looked for William, the security man who had accompanied Lex to the hospital, the one who wore the meteor rock tiepin. William was not in sight. Clark had wondered…if the man was near Laura, did that kryptonite tiepin contribute to her death? Meteor rock exposure was hardly the best thing in the world, even for healthy adults.

In the quiet dark hours of three a.m., it was another thing that Clark wondered about. Clark had thought about it, over and over - should he have removed the tie, gotten the tiepin out of Laura's vicinity? But, at the time, overwhelmed with Lana's condition and Lex's barely-disguised hatred, he'd never thought of that. Not until it was too late. He remembered a few lines of a poem, murmured it bitterly to himself. _"Of all sad words of tongue and pen, the saddest are these – It Might Have Been." _

He took a deep breath, straightening his tie as he walked into St. Swithin's Episcopal Church. His eye was immediately drawn to a small white casket in front of the altar, heaped with white orchids. Clark slipped into a rear pew, bowing his head as the white-haired clergyman began the service.

Through the solemn, spare service, Clark remained silent, drawn inexorably back to his father's interment. Losing someone never got any easier. It was worse when a whole life ahead was gone. He stood at the final words before the casket was wheeled out.

"Eternal rest grant unto her, O Lord."

With the others attending, Clark murmured, "And let perpetual light shine upon her."

* * *

Later, at the quiet post-funeral luncheon, Clark made his way to Lex and Lana. Based on Lana's wobbly posture and unfocused eyes, she was on some powerful anti-depressants – or _something. _Clark, not knowing what to say, took refuge in platitudes.

He clasped her hand and said, "Lana, I'm so sorry."

"Thank you, Clark", she replied dully. It was obvious she'd be a long time recovering from this.

He moved on to Lex. They'd had their differences, but Clark would never wish this on anyone.

"I'm sorry, Lex", Clark said, shaking Lex's hand.

Bitterness flashed in Lex's eyes. He kept hold of Clark's hand, refusing to let Clark move on. In a low, intense voice, Lex said, "Are you really, Clark?"

Clark's eyes widened in surprise. "Of course I am, Lex. I never wanted this to happen."

"But it happened anyway", Lex said sharply. "Once again, you have what I wanted and I'm left with nothing. Being there at the birth, being with my daughter…" His words trailed off as he squeezed Clark's hand with enough force that it would have hurt anyone else. "I was left with the dregs again. You had the loving family, everything else – and now you've taken my daughter."

Clark flexed his hand to break Lex's grip. He stood back a step, ignoring the curious looks of the next people in the condolence line. He tried to maintain a calming tone.

"Lex, you're overcome with grief. I did everything I could for Laura ---"

"Including taking her into a lightning storm!" Lex said in a audible hiss. "It's all your fault." His voice grew louder. "I'll never forgive you for this."

Clark stood, aghast at the imputation of malign intent into his well-meaning actions. He gathered himself. There was no reasoning with Lex in this mood.

"I'm sorry, Lex." That was all Clark said. He moved on. Behind him, Lex Luthor looked at him with one last expression of hate. Then Lex smoothed his face into its usual non-communicative mask.

Clark headed toward the exit. He couldn't get out fast enough. Unfortunately, a voice called his name.

"Clark!"

Clark sighed as he saw Lionel Luthor approaching him. As ever, the older Luthor was impeccably dressed. In deference to the occasion, the hand-tailored Italian suit was an unrelieved black.

"Clark, I'd like to talk with you a bit", Lionel said. There was a tentative tone in his voice, unlike his usual commanding style. Clark looked at the nearby bodyguard; Lionel said, "Give us some space, Cyrus." The bodyguard backed away; Lionel indicated a secluded corner and he and Clark headed there. Cyrus by a combination of aggressive posture and menacing body motion ensured their privacy from the crowd.

Lionel stared at Clark for a moment. As usual, Clark felt off-balance when confronted by the enigmatic tycoon. Avoiding social small talk, Lionel probed with his usual gift of cutting to the heart of the matter, "Lex's comments aside, Clark, I'm guessing that's not the entire story?" he said.

Clark debated how much to say. Lionel waited patiently, having learned over the years that silence called for something to fill it. Clark opened his mouth, looked away, shut it again. He stood awkwardly, not sure what to do.

In a weird way, Lionel was one of the only people in whom Clark could confide. As much as Clark hated Lionel knowing his secret, and distrusted Lionel, there was still a shared bond between them, a twisted copy of the relationship between Clark and Jonathan Kent.

Clark sighed. _It's only human—only natural_, he thought ironically. W_hen you're accused of something, you want to refute it. And who else can I tell?_

"Lana's plane crashed. I found her up at a lake. She had the baby. I was taking them home", he said tersely. Lionel raised one eyebrow at the admission that Clark still considered Lana under his protection. "We were hiking out –" Lionel's expression of disbelief prompted Clark to say, "Well, I was carrying her out. We couldn't go very fast through the forest. That's why she was missing so long."

Lionel said nothing, but made a "go-on" motion.

Clark continued, sounding faintly desperate. "We got out of the forest. We were almost safe. I was carrying them and we were out in the middle of the open. Three more seconds, I swear, we would have been safe. But the lightning hit."

His voice roughened. "I thought the baby was OK. Lana was in cardiac arrest and I did CPR. We got to the hospital and she made it. But I keep on wondering, if I'd done something different, would Laura have made it too? Did I forget to do something? I thought she was OK! What did I do wrong?" Clark made himself stop, having said more than he intended, revealed more of his private doubts than he wanted to.

Clark looked up at Lionel, saw him staring into space, an unfamiliar expression on his countenance. Could it be compassion? Clark had never seen that in Lionel before. It surprised him.

"Clark, I'm sure you did everything you could." Lionel's voice was hushed, avoiding notice from the crowd of onlookers, but emphatic. Clark couldn't stop himself from giving a tiny nod.

Bitterness tinged Lionel's voice as he continued, "Sometimes bad things just happen. Sometimes there's nothing anyone can do", Lionel said, lowering his voice, "even if they have special abilities." He stood silent for a moment as remembered pain twisted his face. He said, "Lex won't, but I'd like to thank you for doing what you could for my granddaughter."

Clark looked warily at Lionel. He was used to examining everything Lionel said for ulterior motives. But this time the older man actually sounded grateful.

"Thank you, Clark." Lionel motioned to his bodyguard, who neared them.

"Please give my regards to your mother."

Clark nodded.

Lionel sighed. His face fell into tired lines. Suddenly he looked much older. He took a step towards the condolence line. "Now I've got to go and talk to Lex. I doubt he'll listen to me, though." Lionel walked away. Under his breath, so softly that only super-hearing could have caught the words, Clark heard Lionel say, "He's not the first Luthor to lose his child."

* * *

Martha Kent sat at the kitchen table with Clark. She reached out and took his hand. Golden sunlight streamed past the window curtains, illuminating the fruit bowl on the table, making tiny rainbows as it passed through the multiple prisms of the crystal window hanging. A small breeze tinkled the prisms against each other.

"I know this is tough on you, honey." She said it quietly, as she'd said a hundred sensitive things in a hundred sensitive conversations over the years.

"You know the tough part, Mom?" Clark asked quietly. "I felt like I was her real father." Carefully, he didn't say, _I wonder if I __**was**__ her real father._ Some things just hurt too much to say. "Being there, alone with Lana and her…"

Martha said, "Losing your child. It's so hard…." She swallowed. "The time when we thought we'd lost you…it was the worst day of my life." His mother took his fingers in hers, driven to deny the bad times; driven to touch, to feel the warmth of living flesh. "We were so lucky to get you back. It was a miracle."

"There were no miracles for Laura", Clark said bitterly.

"Oh, Clark." Martha squeezed his hand. They didn't say anything for a moment. She sat quietly, sympathizing, ready to listen.

Clark thought about telling his mother how Lana had found out his secret. Martha probably knew that Lana had to have figured out _something_ during this whole episode – his mother was no fool. But she seemed content to let Clark tell what he felt ready to tell, when he felt ready. Then Clark decided against telling the whole story right now. That sorrow was still too close, too tender. He wasn't ready yet to examine his feelings about Lana. And in the end, nothing had changed, anyway.

Almost telepathically, his mother asked, "How is Lana doing?"

"She looked kind of dazed", Clark said, remembering Lana's glassy eyes and disjointed conversation during the funeral. "I think she's on some sort of drugs."

"They have their place, I guess, but eventually you have to get off them and face your grief." Martha spoke with the assurance of one who knows from personal experience. "What about Lex?"

"Well, he's convinced that I deliberately arranged this to spite him." Clark couldn't keep an incredulous note out of his voice.

An expression of disbelief crossed Martha's face. Then she said in a soothing tone, "Lex is hurting, Clark, he's lashing out."

_She always looks for the best in everyone_, Clark thought. "I can't believe he'd think I'd do something like that." Clark laid his hand flat on the table, feeling the smoothness of the wood, wishing for the hundredth time that his father was still here to talk to. "I would never hurt anyone, you know that."

Martha's hair ruffled in the breeze as an introspective look crossed her face. "You know, Clark, people often accuse others of doing the things they're thinking about themselves."

Clark turned that over in his mind, not liking the taste of it. "You don't think Lex --?"

"Who knows what he's capable of?" his mother asked, turning somber. "I don't like to think it of him, Clark, but even I know he's hurt people before. It's not so much a stretch to guess he'd do it again. And now he feels he has a personal motive."

Clark leaned back and sighed. "I won't be able to change his mind. He's obsessed." He got up from the chair, paced around the kitchen. "He'll hate me even more now." Clark took hold of the rim of the chair. Gripping it firmly, he loosened his hold when the wood creaked under his grasp.

He said, "I can take care of myself. But other people…" The breeze through the window molded his blue T-shirt to his torso. "I was thinking about this all the way home."

"What, Clark?" his mother asked.

"I know there's a lot of helpless people out there – not just kids. I couldn't save Laura." He stood facing Martha, the sunbeam behind him giving him a golden aura.

"From now on, I'm going to do what I can to save the people who need it. Maybe they just need a little help. Maybe they need a lot. But I'm going to do what I can." Clark stood up, straight and tall, green eyes resolute, his red jacket billowing out in the small breeze, determination on his face. "I'm going to do what I can."

The End


End file.
